The Bridge over Osgiliath
by Uvatha the Horseman
Summary: Three weeks after the War of the Ring would have been (AU), Frodo's mission has failed, and Sauron has the Ring. Yet during the Second Age, Sauron suffered one humiliating defeat after another, even while wearing the Ring. He fears Gondor as much as they fear him. (slash Sauron/Melkor)
1. Shagrat's Bundle

**Shagrat's Bundle**

Barad-dûr

March 13th, TA 3019

As soon as Shagrat arrived at Barad-dûr, The Mouth of Sauron led him to the Audience Hall that housed the Dark Throne. He has a small table brought in and placed before the dais. Shagrat set his bundle on it and stood back, waiting.

The Nazgûl joined them. The Ring had a powerful presence, the same as their Master's. They could feel it easily. Even before the bundle was opened, they were almost certain it contained the Ring, and were beside themselves with excitement. Leaving it under guard by the other Nazgûl, The Witch King left to find his Master.

Usually at this time of day, Sauron would be teaching the apprentices, the young people sent here by their families to study sorcery under a master. The best of them were offered positions of responsibility in theDarkTowerafter they completed their studies. Angmar had been one of them himself. The classes were resumed when Sauron returned to Mordor and declared himself openly. But recently, when Mordor went to war, the classes were cancelled and the students were sent home.

So instead, Angmar looked in the War Room, where his Master was spending most of his time these last few weeks. He entered the room, and found most of the High Command of Mordor seated around the long table. His Master's tall chair at the head of the table was empty. The Witch King looked questioningly at the ranking General, who shrugged and said, "Things were getting tense. He stepped outside for a breath of air."

"What kind of mood is he in?" asked the Witch King.

"He's on the rag." said the General.

Angmar noticed his Master's chair had been pushed back roughly and stood far back far back from the table. Papers had been swept off the table, as if by an arm, and lay scattered in the floor. There was a dent in the plaster of the wall, surrounded by a starburst of black. Long drips ran to the floor. An inkwell? But no matter. However this day had started, it was going to end well.

The Witch King told the people in the War Room that a major new development was about to happen, and if they wanted to witness it, they should come to the Audience Chamber. Then he excused himself and continued looking for his Master.

He wasn't worried about or upset by his Master's temper. It was showy, but not dangerous. His Master was a very angry person, but he never did anything to them when he lost his temper. His servants had little to fear from their Master, even when he was in a bad mood.

Angmar knew that "a breath of air" meant that Sauron had gone down to work in the forge. The Witch King was the son of the twelfth king of Númenor, and his idea of relaxation was music, poetry, and literature, not hard physical labor. But he knew his Master had a need to work with his hands, especially when he was stressed. He enjoyed it. It calmed him down and gave him peace.

Angmar approached the forge. He felt the heat of the furnaces even before he got there. He heard the music of the hammer striking metal, harder than necessary, he guessed. Once inside, he found his Master in his workshop, grubby, sweaty, and smelling of smoke. He wore work clothes stained with oil and covered by a leather apron, and his hair was tied back with a leather thong. Strands of hair were plastered to his face with sweat. He bent over the anvil, swinging a hammer, totally absorbed in the task.

"You have to see something. Come quickly!" Angmar urged.

Sauron ignored him and continued working. When he was finished, he lifted the glowing metal with tongs and dunked it in a bucket of water. A cloud of steam rose with a hiss. Then he straightened up and looked at the Witch King, annoyed.

"Angmar. I'm not in the mood. We're at war. I panicked and struck before we were ready. Now I'm paying the price. I just need a few minutes to myself to collect my thoughts and I don't want to be disturbed."

He turned his back, and prepared to begin the next task.

"Mairon please! [1] This is important."

Sauron sighed. He put his tools away in exactly the right place, lined up perfectly. He wiped an arm across his face to mop sweat out of his eyes, and hung the leather apron on a hook.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Sauron grudgingly followed his second-in-command to the small robing room behind the Dark Throne. A servant handed him a ceremonial robe of cashmere wool. He wrapped himself in it, completely covering his soot-stained blacksmith's clothes. Once he was robed from head to foot, he pulled on the black leather gloves which covered his hands and wrists. He bowed his head to let a servant drape a veil over his head and shoulders, arranging it so his face was hidden but he could still see. Kind of.

Orcs and other low-ranking servants were not permitted to see Sauron's face or speak his name. The practice began when he was hiding at Dol Guldur, but he still practiced it with the lower ranks. He ruled by fear, and exaggerating his supernatural aspect was useful because it generated fear.

He pulled up the hood of his robe and stepped into the audience chamber to meet whoever was waiting for him in front of the Dark Throne. He still smelled like he'd been working in the forge.

Shagrat stood by the table, waiting patiently. The Nazgûl stood around him. A crowd began to gather. When Sauron entered the room, and the Nazgûl felt his presence. They perceived that the presence inside the bundle wasn't just similar to his, it was identical. The Ring had been found.

Mounting the dais, Sauron noticed their agitation and glee, but didn't understand it. Unlike them, Sauron couldn't sense the Ring. It was part of him, and its presence was masked by his own.

He saw Dwar, the third Nazgûl, grinning.

"Your presence here today is depriving a village of its idiot."

Hoarmurath, the sixth Nazgûl, was also grinning.

"Correction. Two villages."

He took his place on the Dark Throne, a huge block of black marble. He didn't actually like to sit on it. It drained all the heat from his body, and it would be hours before he felt warm again. He hoped this audience would be completed quickly.

At a nod from the Witch King, Shagrat unwrapped the small bundle and displayed its contents. There was a grey cloak with an Elven broach, a dagger made by the Men of the West, a mail coat of Mithril, representing the Dwarves' best work. Clothes, gear, and some other odds and ends.

A phial of light. It looked like Celebrimbor work. Sauron picked it up. It bore Celebrimbor's hallmark.

He didn't own anything of Celebrimbor's. He had once, but they'd parted on bad terms and he'd destroyed them. Now he was sorry, because he would have liked something to remember him by.

The phial was precious to him. Unlooked for, a great treasure had fallen into his hands. This must be what Angmar had wanted to show him.

Holding the phial, he said, "Thank you, Angmar. This is a great treasure and dear to my heart. You were right to come and find me in the forge, and show me this."

"Uhh .. Actually, that's not what I wanted to show you."

The Witch King directed his attention back to the contents of the bundle spread out on the table. Clothes, bits of jewelry, odds and ends, whatever the spy had with him when he was captured. Sauron was looking right at it, but didn't understand what he was looking at. A plain gold ring on a chain.

Then he said stupidly, "That looks just like my Ring."

And even though he couldn't sense the presence of the Ring, he could hear it calling to him, calling for him to put it on. Scarcely able to believe that the Ring had been found, he reached out and put his hand on it, touching it through the leather of his glove.

Then he drew back quickly, suddenly suspicious. The items in the bundle represented the nations of all the Free Peoples, Elves, Dwarves, Men of the West. The Mithril coat, Celebrimbor's Phial, and the Ring, each were items of incalculable value. Why would a small, ragged intruder be carrying such great treasures into Mordor?

It suggested a conspiracy by the Free Peoples, carefully plotted and enormously well funded. He couldn't begin to guess its purpose. All he knew was, the Ring had fallen into his hands too easily. Why would the conspirators want him to have it back?

He guessed that the Ring was cursed. Powerful magical objects sometimes had curses placed on them so they couldn't be used. The Silmarils had been cursed by Elbereth so no unclean hands could touch them.

He didn't know how to test for a curse. He considered what his next move should be. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be putting on the Ring.

Yet even he couldn't use the Ring, just having it in his possession was a huge relief. It meant no one else could use it against him. If someone else found it and claimed it, they could take the Nazgûl away from him. They could read his thoughts and he wouldn't know. Worst of all, if they were strong enough they could make him a Nazgûl himself. He was terrified of being enslaved by his own Ring. His shoulders sagged in relief.

"Halt the advance of the armies." said Sauron.

"But they're already crossing the Anduin. You're one day away from Minas Tirith." said the Witch King.

"Everything's changed. We can afford to take our time now."

Notes:

[1] Mairon ('Admirable') is Sauron's Quenya name. Sauron ('abhorred' or 'filth') is his Sindarin name. He likes his Quenya name better.


	2. A Knock at the Gate

**A Knock on the Gate**

March 14th, TA 3019

Minas Tirith

Aragorn sat in the Council Chamber with his chief advisors. Ever since the beacon above Minas Morgul had signaled the start of war, they had been planning the defense of theWhiteCity. Yesterday, the hosts of Mordor overran Osgiliath. Yesterday night, thousands of campfires dotted the east bank of the Anduin.

"They began to cross the Anduin yesterday. I was sure they would march on Minas Tirith today. But instead, they pulled back. I'd like to know why. It was like watching a dog fling himself at you, then get yanked back by its own chain." said Aragorn.

"And I'd like to know why Sauron chose to attack now. According to everything we know, he's not ready for war. Then, out of the blue, he struck with everything he had. Sauron's not stupid. What was he thinking?" said Gandalf.

"Oh .. about that." Aragorn kept his face still. "I sort of pranked him."

"What did you do?" said Gandalf.

"I did something to draw his attention away from Frodo."

"What exactly did you do?" said Gandalf.

"I went in the Palantir and told him, 'I have your Ring.' Judging from recent events, he believedme." said Aragorn.

A palace servant entered the room.

"There's a horseman at the gate. He asked the guard to give you this." He stepped forward with a thin package, which he placed on the table in front of Aragorn.

"Who is the message from?" Aragorn asked.

"The guard said the messenger wore no badge, but was dressed all in black. His horse was black, too. He spoke in a whisper, and his face was invisible."

"Oh, and one other thing. When the messenger approached, the dogs didn't bark like they usually do. They crawled into a corner with their tails between their legs, whimpering. He said he'd never seen anything like it." said the servant.

Aragorn picked up the package and tore off the outer wrappings. He removed a folded parchment, sealed and bound with tapes like a formal diplomatic letter. The outer surface was decorated with a red and black drawing of the Lidless Eye.

Aragorn grinned. "This should be good. Each one has been better than the last.

"I sent an official communication into Mordor announcing myself as Tar-Elessar, Gondor's Future King. I warned Sauron to stay within his own borders, or I'd come over there and deal with him myself.

"He responded with a formal letter offering me the chance to preserve my realm by becoming his vassal. He summoned me to Barad-dûr to kneel at his feet, place my hands between his, and swear an oath of fealty.

"I wrote back saying I couldn't help noticing he'd built himself a new tower from the debris of the old one that we wrecked at the end of the Second Age. I said as soon as he finished building it, I would wreck it, too. This must be his reply." he said, laughing.

"You've gone out of your way to offend him. Do you think that's wise?" asked Arandur.

"I'm not worried. If our plan is successful, he won't be around much longer, anyway." said Aragorn, picking up the letter.

"Or what if your plan has already been successful? The Ring was destroyed, but somehow Sauron survived. He's crippled, and he's decided to ask for terms. Maybe that's what the message is about." said Arandur.

"That would explain the sudden halt at Osgiliath." said Aragorn.

"The Ring hasn't been destroyed." said Gandalf, looking at his hand.

"How can you be sure?" asked Aragorn.

"For one thing, the Nazgûl would be gone. This message was delivered by a Nazgûl." said Gandalf.

"Well, let's see what he has to say." Aragorn broke the seal and unfolded the pages. He read Sauron's careful Tengwar cursive script.

_You're next. _

That was all.

"That doesn't make sense. It would, if Sauron were marching on Minas Tirith, but he's bogged down at Osgiliath. Yet the tone is self-confident and menacing, as if he thinks he's winning." said Aragorn.

"Sauron thought the Ring was in Minas Tirith and took insane risks to reach it. But partway there, he stopped in his tracks. Maybe, for some reason, he decided the Ring wasn't in Minas Tirith after all." said Denethor.

Aragorn looked at Gandalf, and saw fear in his eyes. In an instant, he understood.

"Frodo. What if he has Frodo?" Gandalf asked.

"If he has Frodo, then he has the Ring." Aragorn said.

"I looked in the Palantir." said Denethor. "I watched orcs cut the halfling loose from a spider's web, and pull the silk from his face and neck. They found a thin chain and took it from him. As the image faded, I heard them fighting over something made of gold."

"Sauron manipulates images in the Palantir. Whatever you saw there, I wouldn't take too seriously." said Aragorn.

"He didn't know about Frodo's mission." said Denethor. "He couldn't manipulate an image of something he didn't know about."

Notes:

[1] This is typical of the traditional medieval ceremony of fealty or homage.


	3. The White Council Reacts

**The White Council Reacts**

Lothlorien

March 19th, TA 3019

"Sauron has the Ring." said Gandalf.

There were gasps from around the table. The White Council knew an emergency session meant bad news, but they'd only expected to hear about the sudden outbreak of war.

"This is the worst possible disaster." said Erestor.

"The Ring will multiply his power." said Galadriel.

"He's as strong as when he laid waste to Eriador in the Second Age. Once again, we're facing Sauron Gorthaur, Lord of the Earth." said Cirdan.

"He will cover the land in a second darkness. He was never supposed to have gotten it back." said Gandalf. He looked years older than normal.

"Or one could argue that Sauron made the Ring, so technically, it belongs to him." said Saruman.

Gandalf shot him a look that could maim. Saruman glared back.

"I'm just saying." said Saruman.

"Which side did you say you were on?" Gandalf asked him.

"How is he more dangerous than before? I want specifics, not vague fears." said Elrond.

"He can control his minions with his will." said Galadriel.

"He can strengthen his fortifications." said Celeborn.

"He can endow the Nazgûl with greater terror." said Glorfindel.

"We can't use the Elven rings anymore, and we've lost the option of destroying the Ring." said Galadriel

"I don't even know why I agreed to help the Council, after you kicked me out." said Saruman, crossing his arms over his chest. "But Gandalf doesn't understand the Ring the way I do, and he's missing the point."

"What is the point?" Gandalf challenged.

"The Ring isn't a military weapon. It binds the other Great Rings and controls those who wear them, particularly the Nazgûl. It also conveys the power to influence people, such as the Númenorians in Armenelos or the people in Khand or Harad." said Saruman.

"But it doesn't change the number of his troops, the effectiveness of his war machines, or the ability of his captains."

"But he must be more powerful with the Ring than without it. Otherwise, why was he so keen on getting it back?" said Gandalf.

"When he lost the Ring, he feared it would fall into the hands of a strong-willed person who could wrest it away it away from him. Someone like myself, or even Tar-Elessar. If that happened, Sauron would lose control of the Nazgûl.

"Worse, he could be enslaved by his own Ring and forced to serve another. That would have broken him." Saruman said, smiling to himself.

"Sauron has declared war against Gondor. What are we going to do?" asked Elrond.

"Suppose we appeal to the Valar? What if they came to our aid and took care of him, once and for all." said Galadriel.

"Since the drowning of Beleriand, the Valar have taken a hands-off approach. They're only allowed to influence and advise." said Gandalf.

"There's more to it than that. Manwë leaves Sauron alone because Sauron is under Ilúvatar's protection. Apparently he serves a purpose, although I can't imagine what it might be." said Saruman.

"His purpose is to be a common enemy. Without one, Elves and Men would make war against each other. So no, the Valar aren't going to remove him." said Radagast.

"Elves and Men would never make war against each other." said Erestor.

"Actually, it's in the Music. The Elves strike the first blow." said Radagast.

"If the Valar won't intervene, what can the Istari do?" asked Elrond.

"Our power is less than Sauron's, even five against one. But there are things we can do. To prevent Mordor from crossing the Anduin, we could collapse the remaining bridges in Osgiliath, or make the river too rough to cross, or bring torrential rains and turn the roads into a sea of mud, impossible to march through. And we could bolster the courage of the men defending the White City." said Gandalf.

"Could you introduce sickness among the Orcs and kill them off?" asked Celeborn.

"Well, we could, but it would be wrong." said Radagast.

"Orcs were Elves once." explained Saruman. "That means they're human."

"How can we help Gondor win a military victory over Mordor?" asked Elrond.

"Can Gondor defeat Sauron in battle?" asked Cirdan.

"Right now, no." said Gandalf.

"Mordor is an overwhelming military force. I don't see how it would be possible for Gondor to defeat them, except by recruiting a large number of allies to help."

"What would a victory over Sauron consist of?" asked Elrond.

"It would be a victory if Sauron were captured or killed." said Galadriel.

"He's too dangerous to capture. Think of what happened to Ar-Pharazôn. And he can't be killed, at least not for long. With the Ring, he can take form again easily." said Gandalf.

"It would be a victory if Gondor drove Sauron back behind the encircling mountains and prevented him from leaving." said Cirdan.

"Does Gondor want to stay in Mordor and pin down Barad-dûr in perpetual siege? You can only keep that up for so long." said Celeborn.

"Could the White Council drive him out of Barad-dûr, like we drove him out of Dol Guldur?" asked Gandalf.

"We now know he left Dol Guldur voluntarily. He's not going to leave Barad-dûr." said Saruman.

"If Gondor can't defeat Mordor, what are our other options?" asked Elrond.

"Suppose we made him afraid to leave his own realm, for example, by spreading a rumor of plague in Gondor." said Galadriel.

"Or by telling him Manwë will arrest him if he sets foot outside his own realm." said Saruman.

"But the Valar have decided to him alone." said Galadriel.

"He doesn't know that." said Saruman.

"Suppose we kidnapped one of his servants to hold hostage? Then we could dictate terms. How about Nazgûl One and Two, or the Mouth of Sauron? All three venture out of Mordor regularly." said Celeborn.

"The Nazgûl are too dangerous. People have died from getting too close to them." said Gandalf.

"And we can't kidnap the Mouth of Sauron. He's an ambassador." said Elrond.

"Besides, I don't think we can influence Sauron by holding one of his people hostage. He doesn't care about people. If he lost someone important, he'd just replace them with someone else." said Gandalf.

"What other options do we have? I wouldn't normally suggest it, but could the two sides agreed to a cease fire?" asked Elrond.

"Are you asking for Gondor and Mordor to negotiate a stable truce? That's pretty ambitious. They've never negotiated anything before." said Celeborn.

"Just negotiating the agreement would be difficult. It's a slow process to send messengers back and forth, even for ambassadors with a lot of authority. Things are moving so fast right now, I don't think we have time for that." said Erestor.

"Suppose we picked a neutral location, and arranged for Aragorn and Sauron to meet face to face?" said Radagast.

It took people a while to stop laughing.

"Well for one thing, they'd kill each other." said Gandalf.

"Have you heard about the messages they sent each other? It wouldn't be safe to let them anywhere close to each other." said Erestor.

"Working through go-betweens would be safer." said Glorfindel.

"But it would take longer. And we don't have the luxury of time." said Elrond.

"Why would Sauron agree to a cease fire, when he has the ability to defeat Gondor?" said Glorfindel.

"No one wants war, not even him." said Elrond.

"I'll ask Saruman and Radagast to go into Mordor, to talk to Sauron about a truce with Gondor.

"Why send Radagast?" asked Erestor.

"Saruman shouldn't meet with Sauron alone, because he fell under Sauron's influence for a while recently. Radagast will come along as an observer, for Saruman's protection." said Gandalf.

"I just hope Saruman's powers of persuasion are at their peak, because he's going to need them." said Gandalf.

"Why would Sauron talk to anyone on the White Council? We were created to oppose him." said Glorfindel.

"And Saruman tried to steal the Ring. I thought Sauron hated him." said Celeborn.

"Sauron is mad at him, certainly, but I don't think he hates him. Saruman is his next of kin." said Gandalf.

"That does explain a lot." said Galadriel.

"What would the White Council tell them to put in the treaty?" said Erestor.

"The treaty would be theirs alone." said Elrond. "We can do a lot, arrange the meeting, invite the participants, and provide all the logistics, but we can't touch the treaty itself."

"Where would the two sides meet?" asked Erestor.

"At the midpoint on theGreatBridgeover the River Anduin." said Elrond. "It's traditional to exchange prisoners or ransom hostages on a bridge. In fact, a bridge is a good place to hold any meeting where the two sides don't trust each other."

"How would you get both sides to show up? Sauron never leaves his realm." said Saruman.

"The Host of Mordor is camped on the east bank of the Anduin. He may agree, if he's surrounded by his own army, on land he recently claimed as his own." said Gandalf.

"Ultimately, they would show up because a truce is good for both of them." said Elrond.


	4. Persuading Gondor

**Persuading Gondor**

Minas Tirith

March 23rd, TA 3019

Elrond was tired from the journey. He and Gandalf had ridden hard to reach Minas Tirith quickly. They made the trip from Lothlorien in record time, and were dusty from travel, but their message was urgent. They met Aragorn unwashed, with the dust from the road still on their clothes.

Elrond followed Aragorn's into the Council Chamber and sat down at the table. Gandalf sat down beside him.

Elrond spoke first. "We've just come from an emergency session of The White Council."

"I told the Council that Sauron has the Ring." said Gandalf.

"Since the Host of Mordor marched out of Minas Morgul two weeks ago, I've done nothing but plan the defense of theWhiteCity. This new development doesn't make our situation any better." said Aragorn.

He got up and pulled a large map over from the other end of the table, which he positioned in front of them. Lead figures of soldiers, horses, and war machines covered it.

"Mordor overran Osgiliath ten days ago, then took up a position on the east bank of the Anduin. They could cross the river and march on Minas Tirith at any time. I'm surprised they haven't already." said Aragorn.

"The White Council believes Sauron can defeat you." said Elrond.

"It's not certain his military strength is greater than mine. It's hard to know these things before the battle." said Aragorn.

"He has you outnumbered." said Gandalf.

"Do we even know he has the Ring? He hasn't declared it." said Aragorn.

"We're not sure, because he hasn't put it on. But based on Denethor's vision, I believe he does." said Gandalf.

"Suppose the Elves came to our aid?" said Aragorn.

"Together, you could probably defeat him. But there's not enough time for the Elves to get here." said Elrond.

"In the meantime, if Sauron decides to attack Minas Tirith, he will overwhelm you." said Gandalf.

"What options do you have?" said Elrond.

Aragorn thought for a minute. "There's one option we've never talked about. Assassination."

"How would you get close to him? We've sent spies into Mordor before, but we've never managed to get one inside Barad-dûr itself. I don't see how you could get anywhere near him." said Elrond.

"I'm not talking about sending one of our own people. We could bribe a servant to poison him, or put a knife between his shoulder blades, or bash him in the head with a hammer while he's sleeping." said Aragorn.

"Do you know enough about him to try? For instance, does he take precautions against poison? Does he wear armor beneath his clothes? Does he sleep behind a locked door with guards posted outside?" asked Elrond.

For that matter, which side of the bed does he sleep on? We wouldn't want to do in the wrong person." said Denethor.

"Is he married?" asked Arandur.

"I don't know. I would assume so." said Denethor.

"Could an unfamiliar servant get close to him?" asked Elrond. "For that matter, could one of his own servants get close to him? Or does he tell them, 'My person is sacred, none may approach me.' We just don't know."

"Do we even know if he eats and sleeps? He's not a man, he's an evil spirit." said Aragorn.

"And how do you bribe someone to do something they won't survive?" said Elrond.

"Could we find someone disgruntled, who would do it for revenge?" asked Aragorn.

"Do any of the Nazgûl chafe against their enslavement?" asked Denethor.

"The second Nazgûl comes to mind. I think his name is Khamûl. Gandalf slipped into Dol Guldur on his watch and unmasked the Necromancer as Sauron. Khamûl was severely punished for that. And just recently, the Mouth of Sauron was promoted above him. Maybe he's nursing a grudge against his Master, and just needs a little encouragement." said Aragorn.

"He's enslaved. He doesn't have free will." said Elrond.

"How about finding someone ambitious to do it? Does Sauron have a subordinate who wants to take his place? The Witch King, for instance. He has near-complete free will, which the other Nazgûl don't." said Denethor.

"Sauron can read his mind. The plot would be exposed before it began." said Aragorn.

"Well, how about the Mouth of Sauron. He's second in line in the succession, right after the Witch King, and he's well known to be ambitious. He's not a Nazgûl, so he has free will, and Sauron can't read his mind." said Denethor.

"Oh wait, I forgot something. Sauron's immortal. He can't be killed." said Aragorn.

"That's one reason assassination won't work." said Gandalf.

"Have you considered a diplomatic option?" asked Gandalf.

"What do you suggest?" asked Aragorn.

"Meet with Sauron in a neutral setting and negotiate a cease fire." said Elrond.

Aragorn looked stunned. "I will never ask for terms." His eyes were hard.

"I didn't advise you to ask for terms. A cease fire isn't a surrender, it's an agreement between equals." said Elrond.

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't seal an agreement with him. He's a habitual liar. Whatever documents he signs or oaths he swears, it's just for show. He won't keep them." said Aragorn.

"Forge an agreement that's in his own best interest, as well as yours. Then he won't break it. He's dishonest, but he's not stupid." said Gandalf.

"A fragile agreement is better than nothing. And it will buy you time, time enough to ask the Elves for aid." said Elrond.

"Even if I agreed to come to a cease fire meeting, how will you convince Sauron?" Especially if he thinks he's winning and doesn't need a cease fire?" asked Aragorn.

"When Elrond and I left the White Council to come here, Saruman and Radagast left for Mordor. They're going to have the same conversation with Sauron that we're having with you." said Elrond.

"Saruman has great powers of persuasion. He may well get Sauron to agree to a truce, or even meet with Aragorn face to face." said Gandalf.

"Uh .. that's okay. We don't need to meet him in person. Working though ambassadors would be fine." said Arandur.


	5. Persuading Mordor

**Persuading Mordor**

Mar 24th, TA 3019

Barad-dûr

Saruman and Radagast stood on the bridge that led to the main gate into Barad-dûr. The gate was open, and Saruman's older brother stood under the stone arch, blocking the way.

They'd ridden all day, arriving here in late afternoon. The low clouds combined with soot from the volcano made twilight come early. A raindrop fell, then another. Barad-dûr was built on a promontory of rock thousands of feet above the volcanic plain below. At this altitude, the temperature was cold and falling quickly, and the wind was brisker than it had been in the lowlands. Inside the walls, there would be shelter from this infernal wind, Saruman thought. He shivered under his cloak.

Beyond the gate, Saruman saw cobblestone streets and tightly packed buildings. There was an inn nearby, and he could smell the aromas from its kitchens. A group of soldiers hurried through the misty rain toward it, seeing dinner and warmth. Saruman watched them go in.

That morning, he'd seen Barad-dûr for the first time. Even in the distance, it looked huge and black and terrifying. Funny, how things are less scary when you get close to them.

The rain had begun in earnest by now. Saruman pulled his hood over his head.

"Are you going to ask us in?" he asked his brother.

"No. You're not welcome in my house." Sauron said.

Sauron stepped backwards and made a gesture toward the gatehouse. A moment later, the portcullis dropped with a crash.

"Is this because of that incident with the Uruk-hai and the halflings?" Saruman asked through the grating.

"Yes."

No one said anything for a few moments. Saruman studied his brother. He was dressed entirely in black, in formal ceremonial robes that concealed every recognizable feature. Black gloves covered his hands. He pushed back the hood of his mantle, revealing his face.

"Why are you here?" said Sauron.

"I have a message from Manwë Súlimo." said Saruman.

Sauron kept his expression neutral, but Saruman watched the color drain from his face.

"As long as you remain within the encircling mountains that define your realm, you will be left alone. But if you venture outside, or send armies into other realms, or seek to extend you influence to other realms, there will be consequences." said Saruman.

"Such as?"

"Arrest and imprisonment."

Sauron swayed, and grabbed the portcullis for balance, but his face remained still.

"Aiwendil, look me in the eye and tell me. Is this true?" Sauron demanded.

"Uh .. well .. " Radagast struggled for words.

The color returned to Sauron's face, and then some. Spots of red burned on his cheeks. Saruman, who was familiar with his brother's temper, fought the impulse to turn and run.

Radagast spoke quickly. "Curumo was joking. We do bring a message, but it's from Gondor. They seek a truce with you, a cease fire by mutual agreement."

"I don't want a truce. I want to settle this score once and for all."

"Well, I don't know. The benefit to you would be .. would be .. darn! I've forgotten my lines."

" .. would be that I wouldn't have to spend lives and treasure on war." said Sauron.

"No, I don't mean the benefit to your realm, I mean the benefit to you personally. It would be .. um .. would be .. " Radagast fumbled.

"The benefit to me personally would be that I would avoid the risk of being defeated."

"Yes, but there was more. Now, what was it?"

" .. I would avoid the risk of being defeated and dragged through the streets in chains.

" .. and also .. "

" .. I would avoid the risk of being killed and having important parts cut off."

"Yes, that was it!" said Radagast, pleased.

"But may I ask you something?" said Radagast. "How badly do you want to avoid those things? Enough to sit across the table from someone you really disliked and talk? How ready are you to do that?"

"Not even close." said Sauron. "I'm winning. Why would I agree to a cease fire now?"

"In the past, when you felt sure you were going to win, did you?"

"Maybe half the time."

"And then what happened? Could you hold the land you won?"

"Only for a short time. Then I get beaten back. Eriador was like that, and Eriador was my greatest victory."

"Suppose the truce was already signed, the border was fixed, and you didn't have to worry about war anymore. Would that be a good thing, or a bad thing?" asked Radagast.

"It would be a good thing. That should be obvious even to you." said Sauron.

"Well, you're the only one who can decide if the truce would be in your best interest. I can't make the decision for you. [1]

x-x-x-x-x-x

They were riding across the Plain of Gorgoroth. The rain was heavier now, and it was getting dark. If it weren't for the light from the volcano, the horses wouldn't have been able to travel safely.

"It hardly ever rains here. In a few days, this whole volcanic plain will be covered with desert flowers." Radagast said.

Trust him to focus on trivia.

"There's a wayside shelter for travelers at the base of the cinder cone. We can sleep there tonight. It's just a shed, but it will keep us out of the wind and rain Remember? We passed it on the way in." said Radagast.

"I thought he would put us up for the night. After all, I'm the brother closest to him in age, and you're his favorite cousin."

"You joined with him, then tried to grab the Ring. I'm guessing he's still mad at you for that." said Radagast. "And today, you lied to him and got caught."

"He believed it for a while. Did you see how he went pale and almost collapsed?" That alone was worth the trip.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Saruman heard hoof beats behind them in the dark. The horseman caught up with them easily. As he pulled abreast, he slowed to a walk. It was one of the ringwraiths. Wonderful.

"Soooo .. I hear you two are kinfolk to my Master. You must have known him way back when." he said.

Saruman let his attention wander while Radagast shared a few stories about Sauron as a somber teenager: how he was apprenticed to a blacksmith, who his friends were, how hard it was for him to talk to a girl he liked. The ringwraith listened, transfixed.

At the same time, Radagast learned the wraith's real name, the village of his birth, and how he got along with the other Nazgûl. Radagast was a simpleton, but for some reason, people confided in him.

"I'm not in his inner circle. That's for the highborn, the ones with education and refined tastes. Me, give me a fire on the hearth and a hunting dog at my feet, and I'm content."

"Who's the inner circle?" asked Radagast.

"That would be Angmar and Khamûl. Khamûl is so attuned to our Master, he sometimes sees images from his memories. Scenes from Utumno, for instance. And Angmar, he's like a brother to our Master." said the wraith."

I am his brother, thought Saruman, yet we've never been close.

"Dwar, let me ask you something. These are trying times. Has it been very difficult for you?" asked Radagast.

"Well, it's wartime. It's about what you'd expect."

"So it must be reassuring to see it on his hand again."

"I've only seen it the once, when it came back to him. But mostly he wears it on a chain around his neck, under his clothes."

"Why do you suppose he hasn't put it on?"

"I don't know. My best guess is he doesn't dare believe it's real, and he's afraid to put it to the test."

"And what do you think?"

"Oh aye, it's real all right. I can tell. I can sense it. We all can, except his Nibs, of course." said the wraith.

Notes:

[1] Motivational Interviewing is a technique in which the therapist manipulates the client into saying what the therapist wants the client to do.

The therapist also gets the client to say why it would benefit the client personally.

The technique is so powerful it's sometimes called a form of mind control.


	6. Faramir's Evil Twin

**Faramir's Evil Twin**

Chapter Notes: The idea for this story came from a piece of fan art, a pencil sketch portrait Sauron the Maia by SkullBastard, with an image of Faramir (David Wenham) from the movie. I saw the two pictures together and thought they looked "separated at birth". Faramir's face is rounder, Sauron's hair is longer, but the only important difference is that Sauron's eyes are ice-cold.

Minas Tirith

Mid-Afternoon, April 4th, TA 3019

Sauron had the Ring. War was imminent, but neither side wanted war.

Faramir stood on the balcony, looking east, towards Osgiliath. That's where the envoys from two Great Realms would meet in just a few days. Ancient enemies, Gondor and Mordor. In just a few days, the highest nobility of Gondor would travel to Osgiliath. There, they would meet the most powerful servants of the Dark Lord of Mordor. There, they would negotiate a treaty to draw a border between their two realms that neither liked but both could live with, and they would sign a non-aggression treaty.

Faramir was going to be there. He had intimate knowledge of the geography of Ithilien, because he had long been a Captain of Rangers there. It was thought that drawing a new border through Ithilien was going to be the most acrimonious issue the two sides would face.

He was excited.

He wasn't one of the ones who would sit at the table. But he would occupy a chair against the wall behind them, listening and advising, at least during times when the whole team was assembled.

There would be occasions when someone from the 'Big Three' would request privacy to discuss the most sensitive or contentious issues. When that happened, the members of the White Council who were running the peace conference would ask that the room be cleared, and the minor advisors sitting in the back row wall would have to retreat into the West Anteroom. He would be disappointed to leave the room, especially as things got interesting. But he would still be close to the action. He would still know what was going on, based on what maps the people in the Great Hall asked for, and what information they needed them to look up.

Boromir might sometimes be one of the 'Big Three' sitting at the table, representing the lordship of Gondor, on occasions when he substituted for their father Denethor. Faramir might even sit at the table himself, during the Ithilien discussions because as a Ranger in Ithilien, he knew the region well.

Faramir wondered who would sit at the table to negotiate for Mordor. Who would be their leader? Possibly The Witch King of Angmar, their greatest general. Or more likely, the Mouth of Sauron, a political expert and political animal, ambitious and manipulative, and Sauron's chief ambassador. Faramir had seen both of them in person. Would it be terrifying to be in the same room with the Witch King? Faramir was glad that the Great Hall was long, and that each side would be confined to their own end of the room.

Some of the Chief Advisors would be unknown to them, and certainly most of those sitting against the wall would be. Mordor folk were hard to tell apart. And the 'musical chairs' approach to swapping roles would make it impossible to keep track of a person, based on where they were sitting. Most likely they would all dress in black, as they were said to do on formal and ceremonial occasions. It was also likely they'd be hooded and their faces obscured. That would make them even harder to identify. In fact, they'd probably all look like Nazgûl.

He had seen Nazgûl often enough. There were said to be nine of them, but he didn't know their names and certainly couldn't tell them apart.

Gandalf saw Faramir, and joined him. "Faramir, come with me a minute, will you? I'd like to introduce you to someone." Faramir followed Gandalf into a study or library, where he saw someone he'd never met, but he appeared to be a great lord of the Elves.

"Elrond, I'd like you to meet someone. Do you recognize this young man?" Elrond, like Gandalf, was a member of the White Council and one of the organizers running the peace conference. Elrond studied Faramir's face closely and shook his head.

Gandalf said, "No, I meant 'Does he remind you of anyone?"' Elrond looked longer the second time, but all he saw was Faramir's gentle eyes, his soft mouth, his kind expression. Again, Elrond shook his head.

"All right. Let's try an experiment. Faramir, have you ever been in a school play? Good! Now let me help you get into character. Imaging that you're very angry, but you're holding it in." Faramir set his mouth in a hard, straight line. "Now, imagine that your heart is ice-cold, and it shows in your eyes." Faramir held his face very still, and narrowed his eyes slightly, looking straight ahead. "Now, imagine your only emotion is hatred."

Elrond's jaw dropped. He was speechless.

"So you do see the resemblance." said Gandalf. "I thought you would. I didn't see it at first, either. But now I think of them as 'separated at birth'." He smiled, adding, "What would happen if we couldn't tell them apart?"

"Oh, that shouldn't be a problem." Elrond said. "Just count his fingers."

Seeing that he was upset, Gandalf pulled Faramir aside. "Faramir," Gandalf said, "I don't want you to feel badly about this coincidence. It's very common for two people to look so much alike that they could have been separated at birth."

Gandalf looked at Elrond, grinning.

"For instance, did you know that Elrond looked almost exactly like Tar-Minyatur, the first King of Númenor? Why, they were the spitting image of one another!"

"The coincidences don't end there." added Elrond. "We were also born on the same day. And we had the same parents.

"Tar-Minyatur is my twin brother Elros [1]." Elrond explained. "We're alike in all things, except he chose a mortal life and I didn't."

[1] Elros and Elrond (b. FA 532) were the twin sons of Eärendil the Mariner.


	7. Radagast's Rabid Badger

**Radagast's Rabid Badger**

On the Road from Gondor to Osgiliath

Early afternoon, April 5th , TA 3019

The small group that would represent the White Council at the upcoming peace conference rode together from Minas Tirith to Osgiliath.

The cease fire talks would take place in Osgiliath, at the center of theGreatBridgeover the River Anduin. This was chosen for being a politically neutral location, betweenWest Osgiliath, still controlled by Gondor, andEast Osgiliath, recently occupied by Mordor.

The group included three Istari, Pallando, Saruman, and Radagast, as well as Elrond Peredhel.

Radagast was the first to notice the sick animal. It was a rabid badger, crazed and in agony, and very dangerous. Even healthy badgers are dangerous, but a badger with rabies, not in its right mind and mad from thirst, is something no one ought to get anywhere near. The others spurred their horses to get away from it as quickly as possible. But Radagast pulled up and dismounted. He approached it cautiously.

"Oh, the poor thing!" he said gently. "We have to try to help it."

He drew closer to the suffering animal. He sat down beside it and placed a hand on its haunches, to offer it what comfort he could. Surprisingly, the animal did not bite him. Instead, it seemed to relax somewhat under his hand.

Radagast was a healer, and he had a great gift. He sat with the dying animal for close to an hour. The others waited for him, watching from a safe distance. There was never any real hope. The animal died in agony and terrible thirst, but its suffering was less than it might have been, due to Radagast's gentle kindness.

Saruman regarded Radagast with contempt. "You put yourself in great danger, and for what? The worthless animal died anyway."

"I just feel that when a creature deserves your compassion the least, that's when they need it the most." said Radagast.


	8. Pallando's Instructions to White Council

**Pallando's Instructions to the White Council**

White Council Camp,OsgiliathBridge

Early Evening, April 6th, TA 3019

Pallando addressed the White Council members who would be helping with the conference.

"The purpose of this conference is to negotiate a cease fire treaty. The treaty itself is not under our control, it belongs to the participants. All we can do is assist them in any way we can, even if it's just by fetching maps, sharpening pens, or filling water glasses."

Pallando continued. "Tomorrow, we'll meet in the Basilica, the palatial government building in the center of theGreatBridge.

"Negotiations will be held in the Basilica's Great Hall. It can only be reached through one of two Anterooms, East or West. The Anterooms provide a private space where each side can store their maps and documents. It also provides a place where they can retreat to take a break and put their feet up, out of the public eye."

"Now let me tell you how the cease fire negotiations will be conducted.

"The White Council will run the conference. Over the next three days, we will provide the two sides with whatever they need to reach an agreement: a place to work, writing materials, and physical security from each other.

"One of your hardest duties as an organizer will be treating both sides equally. You'll naturally be more inclined to support Gondor than Mordor. But if this is going to work, the participants on both sides will have to feel they're being treated fairly.

"In fact, each of you was chosen for your ability to be neutral. Most people on the White Council don't have that ability."

"Elrond can put his personal feelings aside and behave impartially when he has to. He's also able to conduct meetings where emotions run high.

"Radagast has empathy for anyone, and he's kind, and a good listener. He doesn't have an enemy in the world, not even in Mordor.

"Saruman knows both sides well. Actually, both are equally mad at him, but that's a form of neutrality too. While not a member of the White Council anymore, his was included for his knowledge of Ringlore, and because he knows Sauron personally." said Pallando.

"Oh, and let's not forget Saruman's voice. He went into Mordor and talked Sauron into a cease fire. I don't think anyone else could have done that." said Elrond.

Saruman interrupted him. "I understand why I wasn't named Chief Organizer, since I was removed from the White Council, but how did you get the part? You're not a member either."

Radagast explained, "Pallando was chosen to run the conference because he's neutral. He's been away so long, he has no history with either side. He also has the best social skills, and the Council thought he's the most able to help the two sides reach agreement."

"I'm surprised the White Council didn't include Gandalf as an organizer." said Elrond.

"We felt he wasn't able to be impartial towards Mordor. He'd tell you the same. He'll participate in the conference as an advisor to Gondor. But he won't sit at the table, and won't be allowed to participate in the actual negotiations.

"Let me tell you how the negotiating teams will be structured." said Pallando.

"Each side will have three people at the table. These are the people actively involved in negotiations. As such, they may speak to their counterparts on the other side of the table.

"The Principal negotiator is the highest ranking person on each side, the leader and overall strategist. He will be flanked by his Chief Advisors. One will probably be a military strategist, and the other an expert on economic or political affairs. They will be second only to the Principal in authority and strategic understanding, and could take his place, if needed.

"The people at the table will have additional advisors sitting behind them, ready to whisper advice or information. These are the people who know about farming, animal husbandry, and trade with other regions, who know forestry, watersheds, and minerals, or who understood local politics.

"Each side may appoint whomever they want to the three positions at the table. They don't need to declare them in advance. Furthermore, during the conference, either side may rearrange people at will. Minor advisors could be moved up to the table when their area of expertise is being discussed. And if a Principal or Chief Advisor storms out in anger, or is removed for bad behavior, his chair can be filled by someone else.

"The treaty requires three signatures from each side to be legally binding.

"The way we envision it, the Principal and two Chief Advisors will sign the treaty.

"The White Council feels that the treaty will be more solid if the two heads of state signed as Principal, but we don't have any indication whether or not Sauron will attend the conference in person. If not, we hope he'll be nearby and participating through an ambassador.

"Our biggest responsibility is to provide for the physical safety of all the participants. This is not going to be easy. They're enemies, and emotions are running high just now. We don't want any accidents.

"The first thing we've done is to divide the Hall in half, through the center of the table. We organizers may move between the two halves of the room freely, but no one from the delegations may. Gondor must stay on the West side of the room, and Mordor must stay on the East. If a participant crosses over to the wrong side of the line, they will be asked to leave. I don't care if they're a Chief Advisor. I don't even care if they're a Principal.

"The second thing we're done is ban all weapons from the Hall. Participants will not be allowed to wear swords, obviously. They won't be allowed to wear daggers at their belts. They won't be allowed to carry a pen knife in their pocket or have a knife in their boot."

"So we should pay attention and notice when they need us to sharpen their quills?" asked Saruman.

"No." said Pallando. "That's not what I said. The rules apply to us too. You won't have pen knives, either. You will have to plan ahead and sharpen quills ahead of time, or bring pens with wooden handles and metal nibs."

"It's not enough to tell the participants the no weapons rule and hope they'll follow it. We're going to search them before they set foot on the Bridge. They have a right to refuse, of course, but if they do, we won't allow them on the Bridge."

Everyone started to speak at once.

"Search everyone? Even King Elessar? Why not just take his word that he carried no weapons? His word is good. Nobody doubts that."

"Everyone? Even the White Council?"

"Everyone? Even the Witch King of Angmar? I wouldn't want to go anywhere near him, let alone touch him."

"Even Sauron?"

"Everyone." Pallando said firmly.


	9. Pallando's Instructions to Gondor

**Pallando's Instructions to Gondor**

West Osgiliath, Gondor Camp

Early Evening, April 6th, TA 3019

Pallando addressed the emissaries from Gondor: Aragorn as Principal, Denethor and Arandur who would be his Chief Advisors, and a dozen minor advisors, including Boromir and Faramir, and envoys from their allies.

Pallando began. "You have a very difficult task before you. Tomorrow morning, you will be negotiating with Mordor, face to face. So first, I want to teach you how to negotiate."

"Gondor and Mordor are enemies. Fine. You don't have to like each other. But if you want to avoid war, you'll have to find something about your Enemy to respect. Not like or admire. Just respect. Otherwise, you will fail.

"Every person has many different facets, both good and bad. You can find something to respect in anybody, if you look hard enough. This is not the time to dwell on the wrongs they've done you, or dangers they might pose to you, or the things about them that you just don't like. You want to look for things you have something in common.

"As an example, suppose you find yourself negotiating with Sauron himself. You'll have a hard time connecting with him if you're thinking about how manipulative and cruel he is. He's also responsible, and loyal, and highly intelligent. Try to connect with those parts of him instead, if you can.

"Has the embassy from Mordor reached Osgiliath yet?" asked Aragorn.

"Yes. They arrived this afternoon and set up their headquarters in the eastern half of the city, in what used to be the Palace of the old Governor before the city was abandoned." answered Pallando. "I went over to greet them just after they got here."

"Were you able to find out, is Sauron with them?" asked Gandalf.

"Yes, he is." said Pallando.

"Do you know if he'll attend the negotiations tomorrow?"

"We don't know whether Sauron will attend the peace conference. But he'll be nearby, and his personality will dominate whatever the Mordor delegation does.

Pallando looked at the Gondor delegates. "How much do you know about Sauron?"

"He's a great wizard with impressive magical powers." said Denethor.

"That he is. He's a shape shifter. He can read minds under certain circumstances. He can prolong the life of an individual indefinitely. But his greatest power is his ability to influence people and make them trust him. The Ring magnifies this ability." said Pallando.

"He's an evil spirit from the pits of Utumno." said Aragorn.

"You're also right. He emerged from the Void in ancient times, and took physical form to enter Arda. Those who don't know of his supernatural origins assume he's a wizard. But I think he's best understood as one of Aulë's people."

"The person he most closely resembles is Fëanor. He's a highly skilled craftsman, obviously, although not quite in Fëanor's league. He's highly emotional, and quick to anger. And, like Fëanor, he rebelled against the Valar."

"He's a master of deception, a convincing actor and a skilled liar. This makes him very hard to read, so don't trust your gut when deciding whether or not to trust him.

"He's a perfectionist, and extremely controlling. Also, he's a very angry person, in an ice-cold tightly controlled manner. He's frequently sarcastic in a mean-spirited kind of way.

"He's almost unimaginably dangerous. Treat him with extreme caution. He looks normal and he's pleasant to talk to, so can be hard to remember that he's a monster."

"And he's proud. The worst thing you can do is humiliate him. You don't want to do that because he's vindictive and he holds grudges. You don't want to get on his bad side."

"These next three days are going to be sooooo much fun." Boromir said under his breath.

"Sauron has good traits, too." Pallando continued.

"If you see something good in him, don't assume he's trying to 'seem fair' to deceive you. You may actually be seeing something authentic. He appeared noble and fair to the Elves of Eregion. That was not false, just incomplete." said Elrond.

"Both Aulë and Eönwë, good judges of character, see something admirable or noble in him, even now. They see it as the tragedy of his life that he fell into evil, and still hope he can be saved." said Saruman.

"He was not evil in the beginning. He's not entirely evil, even now." said Elrond.

"Sauron is highly intelligent and a very hard worker." Pallando said. "He's deeply loyal to his friends and to his master. His closest friends find him good natured, funny, and smart."

"Sauron has friends?" asked Aragorn, surprised.

"Of course he has friends." said Saruman. "He's extroverted. He has a great need to be around other people. His best friends have included Eönwë Herald of Manwë, Celebrimbor of Eregion, and The Witch King of Angmar." said Pallando. "And oddly enough, he and Radagast have always been close."

"What?" Aragorn was stunned.

"He's my cousin. We grew up together." Radagast said simply.

"How did he become evil?" asked Aragorn.

"I can tell you that." said Gandalf. "He was seduced into evil by trying to do good.

"As I understand it, he wanted to heal the hurts of Arda after the War of Wrath." said Gandalf. "He was willing to use any means available to reach that goal. He loves order, but tried to achieve it by dominating the wills of others. He probably thought he was being decisive and efficient, but without knowing it, he became ruthless and utterly wicked."

"I don't know if he thinks of himself as evil." said Saruman. "It's hard to see it in the mirror."

Radagast added, "I don't think he is evil. I think he's like a wounded animal that's been backed into a corner. He's dangerous because he's in pain. When someone feels threatened to the point that they're fighting to survive, they can become selfish, ruthless even.

"He's had a harder life than we know, and he's been through a lot. Also, since he's lived a long time, he's suffered a number of losses he still grieves for, Aulë, Melkor, his old life with the Elves of Eregion.

"But the thing is, you can deal with a wounded animal. It's safe enough if you know how. You have to be very patient, to let them get used to you. You have to be careful that they don't feel threatened in any way. You have to approach them with kindness, and try to feel what they're feeling. You can approach a wounded animal, but you can't be stupid about it."

"What you mustn't do is back him into a corner and make him feel threatened. What you really mustn't do is wound him in a place where he's already wounded. If you do, he's lash out at you more fiercely than you could ever have imagined." Radagast looked around the room, his eye resting on Aragorn.

"What does Sauron look like?" asked Aragorn.

"Ambassadors who've gone before the Dark Throne report meeting a tall figure clad in sable, hooded and veiled. Some say he doesn't allow any among the living to see his face.

"But in the end, he looks however he wants to look. He's a shape shifter. He could take on a form that's dark and terrible, or noble and fair. He could turn himself into a wolf, serpent, vampire, or monster. Or he could appear in his own accustomed form." Pallando replied.

"What is his accustomed form?" asked Arandur.

"Suppose you took five or six noblemen of Númenorian decent, let's say Aragorn, Faramir, and a few more of similar appearance and age." Pallando replied. "Add Sauron to the group. Then ask someone who doesn't know any of them to identify him. They wouldn't be able to do it."

"Yes, they could." said Saruman. "Just talk about Morgoth and see who makes sheep eyes."


	10. Pallando's Instructions to Mordor

**Pallando's Instructions to Mordor**

East Osgiliath, Mordor Camp

evening, April 6th, TA 3019

"… The person he most closely resembles is Gil-galad."

Pallando was giving almost the same speech to the embassy from Mordor that he'd given to Gondor an hour before. The other members from the White Council delegation, Radagast, Elrond, and Saruman, were with him.

"He himself would have said he most closely resembles Isildur, but that's not true, because Elessar doesn't have Isildur's most significant weakness." added Elrond. "Unlike most men of Númenorian descent, he doesn't fear death or crave a longer life, and that's a key part of his character."

The Witch King of Angmar sat and listened. It was impossible to read his face. The Lieutenant of Barad-dûr sat beside him, taking notes. Sauron stood behind them, pacing or leaning against a table.

These three made up the negotiation team from Mordor, the Principal and two Chief Advisors. Khamûl was going to be a back-up Advisor, as was Akhorahil. Emissaries from their close allies, Khand and Harad, were also part of the group.

Pallando continued. "Regarding his best traits, King Elessar is a great general. He puts the welfare of his people before his own. He supports a cause larger than himself. He didn't want the throne and only accepted it out of duty. He'll never be a tyrant. He's enormously strong, but considerate and kind to the weak. His word is good. He's one of the best swordsmen you'll ever meet."

Angmar, an excellent swordsman himself, had faced Elessar in single combat at Weathertop. Angmar could attest that Elessar the warrior wasn't just good, he was almost supernaturally good.

"Regarding his negative traits, Elessar sees things in black and white." Pallando looked at Sauron. "Or in your case, good vs. evil. He has almost no sense of humor. I know you do it to be funny, but your habit of sarcasm and eye rolling is not going to go over well with him, so you might want to tone it down. He can be judgmental. He has no use for cowardice or petty dishonesty, and he's not going to show mercy toward the wicked, even when they repent. He makes up his mind quickly, and once he's formed an opinion, he's unlikely to change it. He has strong likes and dislikes. In your case, that's a problem, because you're one of his chief dislikes.

"Find a way to connect with them." said Pallando. "Look for traits that you and King Elessar share. You're both highly intelligent. You're both brilliant generals. You both love Arda. There has to be something about him you can find to like, or at least to respect."

"I'm finding it hard to like him, since he spent the better part of the year since Yule plotting to kill me and destroy my greatest work, which for a craftsman, is almost worse." Sauron said darkly. "I believe you're familiar with that plot, Elrond, since you masterminded it."

Pallando continued. "You're going to have to work hard to connect with him. Elessar is going to have to work hard to connect with you also. He's made up his mind that you're a bully and a coward, and he holds you in low esteem."

Sauron was offended at being called a bully and a coward. He was a mass murderer, and cruel, and selfish, and a liar. But he wasn't a coward. He was far more likely to take stupid risks, like turn himself into a giant wolf to take on the hound Huan in single combat or show off by climbing on top of Melkor's Temple in Armenelos during a lightning storm, than he was to be cautious.

And as for picking on the weak, that wasn't fair. He picked on everyone. His favorite targets ever were Gil-galad, the greatest of the Elvish High Kings, and Ar-Pharazôn, the most powerful Númenorian King the island ever produced. It took a long time and a lot of hard work, but he eventually killed both of them. And now he was beginning to take an interest in this King Elessar.

Trying another tack, Pallando asked, "Sauron, I know that you and King Elessar have never met. But when you think of Elessar, do you see Isildur?"

"No. When I think of Elessar, I see Ar-Pharazôn." answered Sauron.

"What would you be thinking about, if you were with Ar-Pharazôn right now?"

"The same thing I always thought about when I was around him. I was on my best behavior, speaking respectfully, and keeping my face still. And I was thinking, 'I don't care how long it takes. I don't care how much it's going to cost me. I don't even know how I'm going to do it. But I am going to fucking kill you.'" Sauron answered. "I got him, too." He smiled happily, and for once, it was a real smile that reached his eyes.

Pallando sighed. Lovely. This is going to be harder than I thought.

Pallando finished up his instructions to Mordor with a review of the conference security rules. He told them that the Great Hall was divided into two halves, East and West, to keep the two delegations away from each other. He made sure they understood that the 'no weapons' rule applied to the smallest penknife. He told them that the conference organizers had the authority to ban any of the participants from the room, including the Principals, and wouldn't hesitate to do it if they behaved badly. He also strongly suggested that they not leave anything in their antechamber overnight, because the organizers would not be guarding the Basilica during the night, and they might prefer not to have the other side taking the opportunity to read their notes.

Pallando dictated one last rule, which affected Mordor more than Gondor. The Organizers didn't want anyone casting spells in the Great Hall. Most spells were sung, so singing of any kind was forbidden while the conference was in session. Anyone violating the rule would be asked to leave.

The restriction was aimed mainly at Sauron, who sang almost all of his spells including the Ring inscription. But it was hard on him for other reasons. He often sang to himself when he was working with his hands or lost in his own thoughts. It would be an effort for him to stop.


	11. First Contact with the Enemy

**First Contact with the Enemy**

In the Great Hall, OsgiliathBridge

Evening, April 6th, TA 3019

Aragorn came to the Basilica on theGreatBridgewere the treaty negotiations would take place the next morning. Pallando had told him little, only that he would meet a member of the embassy from Mordor. Pallando told him to form his own impressions, look for common ground, and not jump to conclusions too quickly.

Aragorn paused in front of the Basilica, a huge building built in the middle of theGreatBridge. Twin statues of Isildur and Anárion guarded the entrance, their gilded crowns missing. [1]

Pallando met him at the door, and Aragorn followed him into the Great Hall. This was where the negotiations would be held the next day.

The Great Hall was the audience chamber where the twin thrones of Isildur and Anárion once stood. The colors and patterns of the marble tiles on the floor suggested their original position. It was a palatial room with a groin vaulted ceiling. Niches lined the walls, some of them still holding statues of kings and heroes from centuries past.

Like so many structures in Osgiliath, the building had fallen into semi-ruin. Most of the artwork was missing, chunks of stone from the structure had fallen down in places, and blackened areas on the ceiling from the fires that consumed so much of the city during the kin-strife were visible.

The conference organizers had furnished the Great Hall with a long wooden table and positioned it to run from east to west through the center of the room. The table was long enough to separate the two sides by a safe distance, but short enough to allow them to hear each other when they spoke in normal tones.

At each end of the table, they positioned three chairs for the Principal negotiator and his two Chief Advisors. They were large, with arms and high backs, appropriate to the high rank of the people who would occupy them the next day. The one in the center was almost as massive as a throne.

The organizers arranged additional chairs of the ordinary sort behind them for the minor advisors supporting the 'Big Three', and for the embassies from their allies.

When the setup was complete, they drew a white line on the floor to divide the room in half.

"That's to keep the two sides away from each other." Pallando explained to Aragorn. "Under no condition may you cross it."

"Are you afraid we'll hurt each other?" asked Aragorn. "Everyone's going to be unarmed, and under a flag of truce."

"We just feel the participants shouldn't be allowed to approach each other too closely." said Pallando. "We don't want any accidents." said Pallando.

"We don't want any accidents." said Pallando. "For the physical safety of the participants, we feel the participants shouldn't be allowed to approach each other too closely."

For this meeting, three chairs had been arranged at the table's mid-point. One sat astride the white line, and the other two were to its left and right.

As soon as he entered the room, Aragorn noticed a young nobleman sitting just east of the line. Aragorn assumed he was an aide or lesser advisor who would assist the 'Big Three' from Mordor in the treaty negotiations.

Pallando invited Aragorn to sit in the chair on the West side of the line, then seated himself between them.

"Please introduce yourselves by the name you were given at birth." said Pallando.

"Aragorn son of Arathorn" said Aragorn.

"Mairon Artano" said the other man.

After making polite conversation for a few minutes, Aragorn asked him what his role in the negotiations would be. "Overall strategy. Veto power. And my signature will be on the treaty."

If he was going to sign the treaty, then he must be one of the 'Big Three' who would sit at the table. Odd, he didn't look like the type Sauron would choose to represent him.

Sauron was a powerful sorcerer and warlord, ruthless, cruel, and almost unimaginably dangerous. Most of his lieutenants were malevolent, pitiless men who wielded considerable power in their own right. The Witch King, in addition to being a powerful sorcerer, was a renowned general. Sauron's Chief Ambassador, called the Mouth of Sauron, was a master politician, said to be fiercely ambitious. This one just seemed young and wholesome. He didn't fit.

"Excuse me. I don't mean to give offense, but how did you get mixed up in Sauron's organization?" asked Aragorn.

The stranger looked up, genuinely surprised.

"I'm Sauron."

Notes:

[1] This description came from "Lindëfirion wiki : Osgiliath" which provides and a walking tour of the city that brings it to life. This site also provides detailed maps.


	12. Pallando Tricked Me

**Pallando Tricked Me**

West Osgiliath, Gondor Camp

Late Evening, April 6th, TA 3019

Aragorn paced back and forth, fuming. He was hardly able to contain his anger.

"Pallando tricked me. I can't believe he would do that!"

"I don't think that was his intention. I think he wanted the Principals to meet and allow each to form an impression of the other, without preconceived notions." observed Elrond mildly.

Then, on a more serious note, "Emotions are running high right now. People are afraid the treaty negotiations will fail. If that happens, was is almost certain to follow. Don't let your personal feelings get in the way of what needs to get done.

"When I first met him, I couldn't even tell that he was evil or dangerous. How was he able to conceal it?" said Aragorn.

"Gil-galad refused him entrance to Imladris only because his back-story didn't check out. We had no idea, at the time, that he was Sauron Gorthaur." said Elrond.

"Everything I saw, every impression I had, was false. I can't read him. I can't take his word. I can't even trust my eyes, because he's a shape shifter. But I just can't believe that I can't trust my gut either. It's never failed me before." Aragorn slumped into a chair, feeling defeated.

x-x-x-x-x-x

"You seem angrier than the situation calls for." said Radagast. He thought for a minute. "Is there a possibility that this is really about something else?"

Aragorn was silent for a while. Then he answered softly, "Frodo. We never really learned what happened to him. Sam got out all right. After he and Frodo quarreled, they split up, and Sam turned back. Faramir found him in Ithilien. He's safe now.

"Frodo went on alone. He was probably caught soon after, inside Mordor. He may have been killed. It's likely he was. He may be alive, being put through things I can't even imagine. Gandalf speculated he would have been made into a wraith if they had caught him on Weathertop." He put his hands over his face. "I don't even know what to hope for."

Gandalf said, "I feel in my heart that Frodo is alive. But I really don't know."

Aragorn continued, "When I realized I was looking at Sauron, face to face, all I could think was, he knew what happened to Frodo. And I couldn't ask him. Whatever he told me, I wouldn't know whether to believe him or not.

We don't know whether Sauron has the Ring. Both Gandalf and Elrond say he hasn't put it on, and I didn't see him wearing it when I met him.

"That means there's a chance that Frodo hasn't been captured yet, and that he and the Ring are still be hiding in Mordor, undetected. It would be too cruel if I were the one, through my own anxiety and concern, who betrayed him and caused him to get caught."

"Unfortunately, Frodo's fate is not on the table for discussion. However, I think it's possible, if we were to approach Sauron in just the right way, we might be able to work something out on the side." said Gandalf. "The trick is to figure out what he would be willing to accept in trade for Frodo."


	13. Ossë's Short Lived Rebellion

**Ossë's Short Lived Rebellion**

West Osgiliath, White Council Camp

Night, April 6th, TA 3019

After the conference organizers retired to their own camp inWest Osgiliathfor the evening, Saruman thought about what Radagast said during the briefings to the Gondor team. Saruman, a backup to the three primary conference organizers, was the Head of the White Council, but a minor member of the White Council delegation. He sat back and listened while the others spoke.

Saruman thought, "Radagast says he likes Sauron because Sauron is his cousin and they knew each other growing up. Well, that doesn't work for me. Sauron's my older brother. We shared a room when we were young, and I don't like him at all. I know him well, but we've never been close.

"Back in Valinor, he was the greatest craftsman in Aulë's service, and Aulë's favorite, Mairon Artano the High Smith, the living legend. Then he left, and I took his place. It was going to be _my_ turn to be the best, the favorite.

Saruman fell silent, remembering. "He left home suddenly. I don't know why. He hadn't been unhappy, and he hadn't quarreled with anybody. I didn't know where he went. Much later, when we faced off in the War of Powers against Morgoth's army, I saw him again, fighting for the other side, right out in front. He was carrying Morgoth's standard.

"Then, all too soon, Morgoth was defeated, and we thought Sauron would ask Manwë for pardon, and sooner or later, he'd be returned to Aulë. I'd return to my position as Number Two. And nothing would have changed. Except that, in addition to being the best and the favorite, he'd also have a whole lot of exciting stories to tell. Like commanding the impregnable fortress of Angband, carrying Morgoth's standard into battle, and leading a host of balrogs into battle. Wow! I hardly even get to _hear_ stories like that, let alone live them.

"But he never did come back. He never appeared in Valinor.

"Sauron didn't take up Eönwë's offer to stand trial and receive pardon. I think he stayed away because of Ossë's experience. Sauron and Ossë used to be really close friends. When Sauron joined the Rebellion, Ossë joined, too. Then Ossë changed his mind and asked to come home. He didn't even have to go to prison, he just served a short period of servitude, and that was it. Except that they're never going to let him off the leash they keep him on now, metaphorically speaking. It's been really hard on him. Ossë says he'll never speak to Sauron again. The funny thing is, Ossë was always the wild one, while Sauron was the responsible one.

"What does servitude involve, anyway? When Ossë was serving his sentence, he had to work really long hours at the most menial chores. He had to do things no one else wanted to do. He said that sometimes, when he was on his knees scrubbing floors while people stepped around him, he felt humiliated and angry. The worst of it, I expect, was the almost total loss of freedom. Ossë was always so wild and free. He also was required to act subservient, even to people who used to be far below him in rank. That would be really humiliating for someone who's as proud as Sauron is. Ossë had a really bad time of it too, but he did get to come home and resume his old life.

Then, after the Númenorian Invasion of Valinor, everything changed. Suddenly Sauron was in _so_ much more trouble than he'd ever been before. Manwë's open-ended invitation to do penance and receive pardon was withdrawn. Aulë, who had loved him so dearly, who would have taken him back no matter what, disowned him and cursed all his works.

"If he was in trouble before, he is really, really in trouble now. Before, he was facing a long prison sentence, followed by an even longer period of servitude. Before the Invasion, it would have been unpleasant, but manageable. Now, I hate to think what they'd do to him. Gandalf knows something, and threatens him with it from time to time. Something about 'The pit that's being prepared for you.' I'm just glad I'm not him, that's for sure.

"But what kills me is he's _still_ Aulë's favorite."

"To this day, Aulë highest praise to one of us is, 'This is truly excellent work. It's almost as good as Mairon's.' He's _still_ the living legend." Saruman scowled. "Give me a break. It's almost as if Aulë doesn't remember that Mairon and Sauron are the same person."


	14. Mordor's Grand Entrance

**Mordor's Grand Entrance**

In the Great Hall, Osgiliath Bridge, Morning, April 7th, TA 3019

On the morning of the first day of the Peace Conference, Denethor walked with Aragorn and his retainers to the meeting place, the Basilica in the middle of the Great Bridge. When they reached the gate at the foot of the bridge, Denethor was surprised to find it shut. The only way onto the Bridge was through a small door in the gate. It was wide enough to admit one man at a time, but only if he turned ducked his head and lifted his feet high. Armed men flanking the door watched them as they approached.

Several officials, apparently sent by the conference organizers, sat behind a makeshift table set up beside the small door. A ledger book lay open in front of one of them.

The officials asked each of the delegates his name and date of birth. Their answers were recorded in the ledger. Denethor was puzzled. No delegate was declared in advance, not even the Principal. The clerk explained that yes, the conference organizers allowed each delegation to send whomever they chose, but they still wanted to know who was there each day.

Then the guards asked them to surrender their weapons. Denethor handed over his sword and dagger. He didn't like doing it. He felt naked without them. Then they searched him for concealed weapons. They took the small pocket knife he always carried, but had forgotten about, and put it with his other weapons.

Finally, a clerk reminded them of the rules. Don't cross the white line under any circumstances. Only those at the table may address the other delegation. Speak respectfully at all times. And if a conference organizer says clear the room, do it.

After they had been questioned, searched, and briefed, they were allowed to set foot on the Bridge. The breeze from the river was fresh, even chilly. Most of them wore their best clothing. Furs and embroidered silks moved in the wind.

From the west bank, they had to walk over half a mile to reach the Basilica in the center of the Bridge. The Basilica housed the Great Hall, where treaty negotiations would begin in less than an hour. There were many large structures on the bridges connecting East and West Osgiliath, but the Basilica and the nearby Dome of the Stars were the largest and grandest.

While they walked, they tried to guess who would be the Principal for Mordor. They didn't really expect Sauron to attend conference in person. It was more likely the Witch King of Angmar would occupy the Principal's chair. But it might also be the Mouth of Sauron. As an ambassador, he'd negotiated treaties before, although none as important as this one.

The road over the Great Bridge, once the main highway between Minas Anor and Minas Ithil, passed through a courtyard in front of the Basilica. The Basilica itself was built to the side of the road over the water so it would not impede traffic. Denethor could see it in the distance, its silhouette black against water and sky.

As they got closer, he noticed something else. It was hard to tell with the sun in his eyes, but it looked like the enormous bronze gates to the courtyard in front of the Basilica were closed. When they drew nearer, there was no doubt. The gates were closed. And if they couldn't enter the courtyard, they couldn't reach the Basilica's main entrance.

They debated among themselves. Most of them had been in the Basilica before. The Great Hall, which once housed the twin thrones of Isildur and Anárion, was just behind the huge double doors in the entry hall just inside the main entrance. With the doors open, the thrones of the two kings would have been easily visible from the courtyard.

The Great Hall was a public place. It was easy to get into, unless the gates were closed.

An official waved to them. He led them to the west side of the building and showed them in by a nondescript door. They followed him down a passage to the West Anteroom.

The anterooms were the rooms where, long ago, citizens of Gondor waited to be received by Isildur and Anárion. This morning, the room was filled with people and activity. The aids and clerks supporting those at the negotiating table milled about, getting ready for the conference to begin.

There was a knock on the door. Pallando, the Chief Organizer, entered the room. "Tar-Elessar? You can come in now." he said.

Aragorn followed Pallando into the Great Hall. Denethor and Arandur went with them. Arandur had once been his own chief advisor, and was now Aragorn's.

The Gondor delegation was the first to arrive in the Great Hall. Denethor looked around the room. At the moment, the East half of the room was empty. Denethor didn't know who from Mordor would be here today. At the least, there would be Nazgûl, and Nazgûl were terrifying.

Aragorn took his place as Principal for Gondor. Denethor sat at Aragorn's right hand, as befitted his rank as Steward of Gondor. Less than half a year earlier, Denethor would have sat in the Principal's chair. Losing his position to this Ranger galled him more than he could say. Arandur sat at Aragorn's left. Gandalf wasn't one of those sitting at the table, but he was in the room as advisor to Gondor.

After the Gondor delegation was settled, members of the Mordor delegation came into the room a few at a time. Each of them was robed in black from head to foot, with only their hands and faces exposed. One by one, they took their places. Denethor heard the rustling of papers and the low murmur of their voices.

Then Denethor saw someone who looked different. He wore the same black robes as the others, but his hands were covered by gloves and his face was invisible. Within a minute, he was joined by two others just like him. They moved soundlessly across the room and stood against the far wall. Denethor noticed that other people moved away from them. He wouldn't want to stand that close to the Undead, either.

A Black Númenorian entered the room and sat in the Chief Advisor's chair to the Principal's left. Denethor guessed he was the Chief Ambassador from Mordor, the one called the Mouth of Sauron.

Then the only Nazgûl Denethor knew by sight entered the room, the Witch King of Angmar. He was taller than the others by half a head, and he wore a steel crown. The Witch King took his place in the Advisor's chair on the right. Denethor frowned. He thought the Witch King would be Principal for Mordor, but the larger Principal's chair in the middle remained empty.

Then the Mordor delegation fell silent. Every one of them rose to his feet and turned towards the door, head bowed. The antechamber door opened. A black robed figure entered the room. His head brushed the door frame, which was at least seven feet above the floor. He was hooded and veiled, with black gloves covering his hands. His face was invisible.

The black-robed figure took his place in the Principal's chair. He laid his arms on the armrests, gloved hands draped over the ends. The black leather contrasted with the lighter colored oak. Even from across the room, Denethor could tell that a finger of one glove had been hemmed short.

_That creature is the stuff of nightmares, _Denethor thought_._ _The Númenorians thought they could handle him until he reduced the island of Númenor to a smoking crater on the sea floor. _The pit of his stomach went ice cold.

"Good." said Pallando. Now that the Principals are here, we can begin. I'd like each of you to introduce yourselves by the name you will sign to the treaty. Gondor will go first, then Mordor."

"Tar-Elessar the Second, King of Arnor and Gondor" said Aragorn in his rich tenor voice.

"Sauron Gorthaur, Servant of Melkor" the principal from Mordor said in a harsh whisper, his voice accented by languages spoken in ancient times. He lisped the s and rolled the r. Thaurr-ahn.

Pallando opened the Conference. He began with a traditional prayer to Ilúvatar. Denethor lowered his head and prayed. So did Sauron and his followers. Denethor was surprised. He thought people in Mordor worshiped Morgoth, not Ilúvatar. Later, he realized the prayer made no mention of Manwë and Elbereth, which would have been offensive to the Mordor delegation.


	15. These Are Our Conditions

**These Are Our Conditions**

In the Great Hall, Osgiliath Bridge, Morning, April 7th TA 3019

As soon as the formal introductions were finished, work on the treaty began. Pallando held up a sheath of papers. "These are the conditions submitted by each side."

Clerks on both sides held pens over paper, ready to record the terms as Pallando read them aloud.

"First of all, some of these are 'throw away' terms, submitted solely to be given up later. I won't name names, you know who you are." said Pallando.

'Surrender yourself to the Valar and answer for your crimes.'

'Return to the Pit from whence you came.'

'Worship me as a God and offer me human sacrifice.'

'Throw the Ring into the Sea.'

"I can't tell you what to do, but I can advise you to take them off the table right now."

'Become my vassal and pay me tribute.'

'Swear an oath not to bear arms.'

"Interestingly enough, those two were proposed by both sides." said Pallando.

'Surrender Minas Morgul.'

'Surrender all lands east of the Anduin.'

'Give hostages to guarantee your promises.'

'Shut down the volcano.'

"Is that something he can even do?" said Faramir.

"Yes, but I don't think he wants to." said Gandalf.

'Draw a border between the realms and find a way to enforce it.'

'Cease the breeding of orcs.'

'Return the Ithil Stone.'

"Some of these are controversial, but I think we can still talk about them. Many of them are reasonable, and I assume you'll both want to include them in the treaty. It's up to you, though." said Pallando.


	16. The Emissary of the Dark Lord

**The Emissary of the Dark Lord**

In the Great Hall, Osgiliath Bridge, Morning, April 7th, TA 3019

Debate over the conditions began almost immediately. Aragorn asked for the return of Minas Morgul and the Ithil Stone.

Denethor kept glancing at the robed figure in the center chair. He could hardly imagine the creature beneath those robes. It was said that Sauron's skin was black and burning hot, and that he was a shape shifter who took the form of monsters. Whatever he was, he wasn't human.

But later, Denethor noticed the veil move slightly with his breathing[1]. And when Sauron turned to speak to the Witch King, Denethor saw his profile through the veil, backlit against the window behind him. Denethor saw sharp features and a nose that might have been broken once. He didn't know what he expected, but it left him feeling disillusioned.

"I'd like to call a closed session." Aragorn said.

Either of the Principles could call a closed session whenever they had something private to discuss with their counterpart. Pallando asked everyone except those sitting at the table to leave the room. About thirty people, the minor advisors, aides, and clerks, got up and filed into the antechambers. The doors closed behind them. Aragorn and Sauron, with their chief advisors, were left alone together. The conference organizers watched them closely.

"I won't negotiate with someone unless I can see his face." said Aragorn.

"It is forbidden." said Sauron.

"I think, just for these few days, we can make an exception." said Pallando.

Denethor froze and held his breath, staring. He'd held back Sauron's forces for as long as he'd been Steward, and had stood up to Sauron in the Palantir. The struggle aged him prematurely, but he learned much of Sauron's thoughts and plans. But even though he knew much about him, Denethor had no idea what he looked like.

Sauron rose. Denethor thought he was going to leave the room. But he shrugged off the sable robe and set it aside. Then he lifted the diaphanous black veil that covered his face and shoulders. He pushed his long hair away from his face and straightened up, looking directly at Aragorn.

His eyes were the coldest Denethor had ever seen, and his mouth was set in a hard, thin line. But he didn't look like a Dark Lord. He didn't even look like a great warrior or a sorcerer. He could be a tradesman from one of the shops in Minas Tirith, a cooper or a blacksmith.

And there was something else about him, something familiar. Denethor couldn't say what, but it made him think of someone weak and ineffective. Denethor was troubled. _Sauron is a great warlord, cruel and strong. His will alone can crush you_. Denethor couldn't associate the terrible presence in the Palantir with someone who looked so … ordinary.

"That's not Sauron" Denethor whispered to Aragorn.

"I heard that!" said the man. He spoke in normal tones, having dropped the stage whisper when he took off the black robes.

"A word of advice. You could have maintained the illusion longer if you'd kept the costume on. Without it, you're not very impressive." Denethor said.

A muscle twitched in the man's jaw, and his hands clenched into fists. But after a moment, his shoulders sagged in the manner of someone who has decided to come clean. He took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I'm sorry. I owe all of you an apology. I'm not who I said I was." He lowered his head and looked ashamed. "My real name is Mairon. I'm a blacksmith's apprentice[2] from a small village[3]. I'm not the Dark Lord, I'm just his emissary.[4] And, as you've already guessed, my name isn't Sauron."[5]

Denethor leaned back in satisfaction. He prided himself in his ability to read people.

"That's just what the Elves call me."

The others laughed.

"Even Melkor started calling me that, when he found out how much it annoyed me."

* * *

><p>[1] Denethor was mistaken. Supernatural creatures, even the undead, need to breathe. During the attack on Weathertop, "So black were they that they seemed like black holes in the deep shade behind them. Frodo thought that he heard a faint hiss as of venomous breath and felt a piercing chill." JRR Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring.<p>

[2] Sauron served the Vala Aulë the Smith before he served Melkor.

[3] The Mansions of Aulë are located on the edge Valimar, the capital of Valinor. Valinor is much smaller and more rural than Arda, so a city in Valinor would be about the size of a village in Arda.

[4] "Other evils there are that may come; for Sauron is himself but a servant or emissary." (of Morgoth) Gandalf, 'The Return of the King'.

[5] Sauron ('filth') is a pun on his real name Mairon ('admirable') and is not something he likes to be called.


	17. Boromir's Faux Pas

In the Great Hall, Osgiliath Bridge

Mid-Morning, April 7th, TA 3019

After the delegates left Minas Tirith for Osgiliath, Aragon decided he wanted to include the Loremaster from the Great Library as an advisor, and sent Boromir back to get him.

Boromir reached the Gate into the city just as the light was failing. He found the Loremaster, an elderly man named Gûlon[1] in the Library. He was still there reading scrolls, even though the hour was late. Gûlon had spent his life studying archaic lore, and was more versed on the history of Gondor and lore about the Valar than anyone he'd ever met.

Boromir and Gûlon set out for Osgiliath at first light, accompanied by an armed escort. They rode hard so as not to miss any more of the negotiations than they had to.

They reached Osgiliath by mid-morning. Boromir had been in Osgiliath before and knew his way around easily. The Gondor delegation made their headquarters in a manor house just off the Bull Market at the base of the Great Bridge. The men-at-arms weren't part of the negotiating team, so they stayed behind at the manor house. Boromir and Gûlon left their horses with them and continued alone and on foot to the Great Bridge.

At the western gate to the Great Bridge, they encountered two or three guards stationed there by the conference organizers. A guard asked each of them their name and their date of their birth. After he wrote down their answers, the other guards asked them to surrender their weapons.

Then they asked Boromir to stand with his feet apart and his arms away from his body while they searched him for concealed weapons. If he'd tried to smuggle a knife in his boot or a dagger strapped to his thigh under his tunic, they'd have found it. Gûlon submitted to the same procedure and surrendered a small penknife and some drawing tools with corners or edges, including a compass with a sharp tip.

Finally, they were reminded of the rules governing security. Obey the conference organizers, speak to members of the other side with respect at all times, and don't cross the line that divided the room under any circumstances.

Boromir and Gûlon walked over half a mile to reach the center of the bridge. They finally reached the bronze gates to the courtyard, closed and locked. An aide showed them the door leading to the West Anteroom, and let them in.

The Anteroom was filled with people and activity. The minor advisors, aides, and clerks milled about looking for passages in documents, making sketches, studying maps, performing calculations, and having intense discussions. It was hard not to bump into each other in the crowded space.

Gûlon remained behind in the Anteroom while Boromir stepped into the Great Hall. Boromir looked around the room. People were studying scrolls, making sketches, having private conversations, writing notes, and going back into their Anterooms to get something. Everyone was busy with his own tasks. No one looked up when Boromir came in. Boromir noticed something else. The atmosphere in the room was very informal. Ceremonial robes had been discarded and draped over chairs. Stacks of paper piled up on every surface, including the negotiating table. People spoke to each other with less emphasis on rank than usual.

Boromir knew, or at least recognized, everyone on the Gondor side. Then he turned his attention to the Mordor side of the room. He saw the Nazgûl, faceless and robed in black. But they were the only ones from Mordor still in black. The others had shed their robes and piled them up in the back of the room. Underneath, they wore the traditional clothing of their home nations. One wore the country finery of a gentleman farmer, another, the heavy leathers and furs of the far north, and others the brightly colored silks of the east, their eyes painted in kohl. The Black Númenorians dressed the same as people did in Gondor.

Boromir was sorry he missed the Formal Introductions this morning. The full complement from each side would have been present. It was rumored that Sauron himself might attend. Yesterday Boromir was apprehensive, but now he was disappointed to have missed seeing him. Sauron might appear again for the Treaty Signing if negotiations were successful, but that wasn't at all certain.

Boromir noticed a man on the Mordor side of the room standing near the middle of the long table. An aide? He looked like a Black Númenorians. He wore Númenorian clothing and he was tall, even by Númenorian standards. Like everyone else in the room, he was completely absorbed in his task. He bent over a set of maps on the table, his sleeves rolled up and his hair tied back.

His task seemed to involve a disputed border area of Ithilien. He was trying to align two maps with different orientation. Apparently it wasn't going well, because after a few attempts, he straightened up and put a hand on the small of his back. When he looked around the room, Boromir made eye contact with him.

"Was you Master here yesterday morning?" Boromir asked him.

"No, he wasn't." the man said.

"Will he attend the Treaty Signing, then?" asked Boromir.

"No, I think it unlikely."

"Why not?" Boromir asked, disappointed.

"Because at the end of the First Age, he was shoved into the Void with the Iron Crown jammed around his neck. I haven't seen him since."

Just then, Pallando announced, "Finish up whatever you're doing. We're going to resume the formal proceedings in about five minutes."

Boromir went back to his end of the table and took his place near Aragorn. Aragorn was looking at him strangely.

"What?" asked Boromir.

Aragorn looked across the room. Boromir followed his eye. At the far end of the table, the man he'd just spoken to was pulling on gloves while someone standing behind him helped him into a black robe. The man bent his head; someone draped a veil over his face and arranged it to hide his features.

The man sat down in the Principal's chair, with his hands hanging over the ends of the armrests. One of his fingers was missing.

* * *

><p>[1] The name Gûlon is based on the Sindarin words gûl, meaning 'sorcery' but also knowledge or wisdom obtained by long study of archaic lore. His name includes the suffix –on, meaning 'great'. So in this context, 'Gûlon' means 'great knowledge'.<p>


	18. Saruman's Ring Lore

**Saruman's Ring Lore**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

late morning, April 7th, TA 3019

Sauron sat at the table, organizing his writing materials. He piled up sheets of paper and tapped the edges to align them. Then he lined up his pens, parallel to each other and even with the top of the stack of paper. He leaned back and regarded his efforts with satisfaction.

He heard Elessar whisper to Olórin, "Look at that. On top of everything else, he's a control freak. I wonder what it would be like to throw a control freak into an uncontrollable situation, like a war going badly. It would be like throwing a cat in a bathtub." He laughed.

Then he addressed Sauron directly.

"Fëanor was the greatest craftsman who ever lived." said Elessar. "I heard that he never studied under Aulë, because he was better than Aulë."

Sauron looked up sharply. "I thank you not to criticize Aulë."

"Likewise." said Saruman.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind, given that Aulë disowned you and cursed all your works."

Deep breath. Count to ten: one, two, three, four ..

Elessar went on, "It's a shame that you left Aulë's household as early as you did. You could have learned so much more from him, if you'd stayed longer. Think of it. Saruman stayed longer than you did, and now he surpasses you in Ring Lore."

Sauron pretended not to hear, but he was grinding his teeth.

Actually, Sauron wasn't worried about Saruman being a Sauron wannabe, and he wouldn't start worrying until he saw Saruman spending all his time with a Celebrimbor wannabe.

There's something of value here. I should have thought of it myself. Saruman is a Master of Ring Lore.

His expertise comes from study and thought rather than from experience, but in some ways, he does know more about Ring Lore than I do. He might be able to devise a test for a curse placed on a magical object.

Now, how best to approach him? What do I need to say or do to get him to help me? He needs to feel superior to me! I think I can give him that, just for now.

To Elessar, he replied, "You're right. Saruman really _does_ know more about Ring Lore than I do."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sauron noticed Saruman standing up just a little bit straighter and smiling to himself.

"In fact, his given name Curumo means Man of Skill. He's well named. Now, my own approach has always been brute force. I have strength, so I use it. But I've never be one of the great craftsmen of Arda.

"While Saruman doesn't have the strength that I do, he has something I will never have, finesse. His works ultimately come out better than mine. For example, I bred orcs, but he bred the Uruk-hai. I'm sick with envy. I wish I were able to breed Uruk-hai, but it's beyond my skill." _Not._

During this exchange, Sauron spoke directly to Elessar. He was careful not to let his eyes leave Elessar's face, to give the impression he was unaware of Saruman's presence. This was crafted to give Saruman the impression he was eavesdropping on a private conversation not intended for his ears, and it was having the desired effect.

If a curse had been placed on the Ring, most likely Saruman would have been consulted, because he'd know how to do it. He may even have placed the curse himself.

Either way, if the Ring was cursed, Saruman would know. And he'd know how to lift the curse, if necessary. The trick is to find out whether Saruman thought the Ring was dangerous.

x-x-x-x-x-x

During the mid-morning break, Sauron left the Great Hall and went into the East Anteroom, Mordor's Inner Sanctum during the negotiations.

He found Ren the Unclean, the eighth Nazgûl, looking out the window at the river, his thoughts far away. "The Unclean" meant, "of unclean mind" as in "fey" or "deeply disturbed". Ren joined Sauron's service as a way to start over and forget, after losing his young family in a plague. But he'd never gotten over them and remained stuck in a complicated grief. When he was found staring into space, he was usually thinking of his small son and baby girl who never had a chance to grow up, and of their mother, buried with them so many years ago.

Sauron touched him on the shoulder and Ren came back to the present with a start. Sauron asked him, "Will you lend me your ring chain?" Many of them wore a chain around their necks to hold their Nazgûl's ring, to avoid having to put it down and risk losing it. "And may I borrow your ring?" Ren looked wary. Sauron sometimes took away their rings to punish them, just as they sometimes took off their ring and threw it in Sauron's face if they were really mad at him. Ren wondered what he'd done wrong. Watching Sauron the whole time, he slowly began to pull it off the Great Ring that made him a Nazgûl.

"No, I meant your wedding ring." Ren still wore a gold band, plain with no markings. He looked stricken at the request because it was the ring his wife Elyen had given him, and all he had left of her. Sauron knew how much he was asking, how much Ren wished he could refuse. But Ren was a thrall to Sauron's will, and however unhappy he was about it, he had to comply.

Sauron threaded Ren's wedding ring onto the chain, hung it around his neck, and dropped it under his shirt. Thus prepared, he went back into the Great Hall.

Sauron made eye contact with Saruman and indicated he wanted to talk. They withdrew to a corner on the Mordor side of the room out of earshot of the others.

Sauron spoke to Saruman in hushed tones. He looked embarrassed, as if he were swallowing his pride. "Look, I need your help. As much as it kills me to admit, I've never had a real understanding of Ring Lore, not the way you have. I'm strong enough that I can use brute force and get away with it. Plus I've been lucky, but when things go wrong I don't have the theoretical knowledge to fix them.

"I have the Ring," he touched the chain around his neck, Ren's chain. "but it's been out of my hands for over 3,000 years. I don't know where it's been or who's tried to use it. Because of the way I made it, the Ring has structural flaws, so it's fragile. What if it's been damaged, and is unsafe to put on? I have no way to tell."

That wasn't his fear, of course. His fear was that the Ring had fallen into his hands too easily. A multi-nation conspiracy caused it to be brought to him, and he was suspicious that the Ring had been cursed and too dangerous to use. He didn't dare put it on until he knew more.

"It's probably asking too much, but would you be willing to have a look at it?" He started to pull the chain out of his shirt, watching Saruman's face while he did so. Saruman leaned forward eagerly, even greedily.

Sauron pulled Ren's wedding ring out of his shirt. The Ring had a presence which Saruman would be able to sense. But since it was part of Sauron, its presence was the same as his. As long as Sauron held it against himself, Saruman wouldn't be able to tell the wedding ring was just a decoy.

""I wouldn't want to take advantage of you by asking you to hold it." Sauron said. Saruman leaned towards him, his attention fully engaged.

".. and I _really_ wouldn't want to impose by asking you to put it on, just for a moment."

Saruman's eyes were wide, and he had a look of longing.

"I might be willing to do that for you, just to offer my professional opinion." Saruman looked like he wanted it so badly he could taste it. Sauron had his answer. The Ring was not cursed.

"Well, here it is, then." Sauron feigned that he was about to lift the ring chain over his head. Saruman stretched out his hand as though it had a will of its own. Just then Ren appeared in answer to his Master's summons. "I'm sorry to interrupt, my Lord, but you're urgently needed in the Anteroom." Ren said, as commanded.

Sauron sighed, and dropped Ren's wedding ring back into his shirt. He turned to Saruman. "I'm sorry, but this can't wait. We'll talk again later." Saruman was disappointed, but looking forward to their next meeting.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Much later, when Saruman was in Valinor, he spoke to Aulë about what Sauron had admitted to him, that he used a brute force approach because he had no real knowledge of theory, and the extent to which he had relied on luck.

Aulë, looking stunned, put down his hammer and stared at Saruman for a long minute. Aulë tended to be blunt. "Where did you get that idea? Mairon is the finest craftsman who ever apprenticed with me. He has a vast knowledge of theory, far greater than your own."

Saruman was crushed.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Aragorn and the Gondor delegation couldn't hear the conversation between Sauron and Saruman, but they could infer certain things by watching. They saw Sauron pull a gold ring on a chain from inside his shirt, and they saw Saruman's reaction to it. Gandalf talked to Saruman later, and Saruman confirmed that yes, Sauron had the Ring.

It wasn't a good thing to know for sure that Sauron had the Ring, Aragorn reflected. Gondor's position in negotiations was weakened, now that Mordor's claim to having regained the Ring was proven.

On the other hand, now they were free to ask about Frodo. He wasn't in Mordor somewhere, undiscovered and still pursuing his mission, he had been caught. Gandalf planned to ask for Frodo back, but the first thing they had to do was to find out if Frodo was still alive. If he was, they needed to find out what Sauron was willing to accept for him in trade.


	19. Melkor's Favorite

**Melkor's Favorite**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Early Afternoon, April 7th, TA 3019

Sauron dropped a pen on the floor, and pushed back his chair to reach down and pick it up. Aragorn saw him from across the room and asked, "If you're such a great wizard, why don't you levitate it using magic? Or can't you?"

In answer, Sauron held out the pen, a wooden handle with a metal nib, and dropped it on the floor. He held his hand over it, palm down. The pen twitched a few times and flew into the air, striking his palm with a smack. He caught it and held it up like a trophy.

"I _can_ levitate objects and open doors without touching them, just like I can write with my left hand, but I generally don't.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Later, Aragorn said to him, "I understand you were Morgoth's Second-in-Command at Utumno."

Sauron's thoughts drifted to a time when the world was young, and so was he. Melkor, which was Morgoth's real name, was the mightiest being in Ea. The greatest of the Valar, he was the only one of them mighty enough to challenge Ilúvatar himself and get away with it.

Sauron pictured Melkor as he was at the beginning: Larger than life, filled with self-assurance, exuberant and laughing, his black hair swinging around him as he moved. He was magnificent, and Sauron adored him.

The Witch King leaned close and elbowed him in the ribs. "You're making calf's eyes. Stop it."

Aragorn remembered Pallando's instructions to the negotiators and tried to find something to respect about Sauron.

"You weren't one of Morgoth's people initially. You joined him later than the others, yet you rose through the ranks with remarkable speed. That's really impressive. How did you do it?"

Sauron looked flattered. "I was fiercely loyal to him, and I worked extremely hard. I was the smart one, the organized one, and the responsible one, although that's pretty easy to achieve when everyone around you is a Balrog or a Kraken."

Aragorn considered this for a minute. "I talked to our Loremaster at Minas Tirith and he told me that every increase in rank, every title conferred upon you, and every honor you held at Utumno was something you earned." Aragorn paused. "On your back." He mentally slapped his hand over his mouth. That last bit just popped out.

"Whatever." Sauron said.

"You haven't denied it." Aragorn said.

"Can we move on, please?" Sauron said evenly.

"All right, for the rest of the conference, the topic of Melkor is off limits." said Pallando.

"Morgoth. You called him Melkor." said Gandalf.

"No, I didn't." said Pallando.

"Melkor is correct." said Sauron.

"You never called him Morgoth?" asked Saruman.

"Only when I was mad at him." said Sauron.


	20. Dueling Banners

**Dueling Banners**

The Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Noon, April 7th, TA 3019

Officially, the Great Hall was supposed to be empty when the peace conference was not in session, but unofficially, there was a certain amount of activity in the Hall while the other side was gone. Early in themiddaybreak, an enormous banner mysteriously appeared on the West wall of the Great Hall, the White Tree of Gondor against a black background with the words, "Isildur's Heir" written in silver across the top. It had been hung right behind Aragorn's chair.

Apparently Gondor's banner was noticed by people who weren't even supposed to be there during the break, because when the Gondor delegation returned for the afternoon session, their banner had been joined by a matching banner on the East wall directly opposite it. The second banner displayed the Lidless Eye in red against a black background with the words "Lord of the Ring, Lord of the Earth" written across the top. The plain black fabric had not been hemmed, and the paint on the fabric was still wet.


	21. The Glass Bottle

**The Glass Bottle**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Afternoon, April 7th, TA 3019

The climate in the room was tense. Sauron was uncomfortable around Elessar. He didn't like looking down the table at him, and he found almost everything he said annoying.

Elessar was making yet another pointless observation.

"I was just thinking about the nineteen rings that Celebrimbor forged. You helped him make most of them, but he did his best work after you left. Why is that? You're supposed to be a great craftsman, but in retrospect, it appears you were holding him back." said Elessar.

"That was unnecessary." said Sauron.

"Well, its true." said Elessar. "Or is the truth a problem for you?"

"You don't want to make an enemy of me." Sauron threatened.

"Why not? It's safer than having you as a friend. What happened to your best friend Celebrimbor? Didn't you torture him to death and use his body as a banner when you marched on Imladris?" Elessar's voice was dangerously quiet.

The pen Sauron held snapped in his clenched fist.

Elessar addressed the Witch King. "You're his friend. I noticed that you have your own banner now."

As one of Sauron's most powerful servants, the Witch King of Angmar had recently begun to display his own banner, a red serpent against a sable background.

"If your Master stays true to form, then someday soon, you might even get to _be_ your own banner." Aragorn suggested.

Then several things happened at once.

In one smooth motion, Sauron rose to his feet, picked up a glass bottle and smashed it against the edge of the table. Moving as swiftly as a cat, he closed the distance between himself and Aragorn in a few long fluid strides, heedlessly crossing the line dividing the room into Gondor's side.

Faramir said later, "We'd been talking about Ithilien, so I was sitting at the table as a Chief Advisor. When Sauron made that sudden lunge at Aragorn, I happened to be between them. I was looking right into those shards of glass and I thought that Sauron was going to go through me to get to Aragorn. None of us were armed in any way so I stood up and tried to protect Aragorn with my body. The whole time, Aragorn sat perfectly still, never breaking eye contact with Sauron, never flinching.

At the same time, three Nazgûl sprang to their feet in an instant, moving just as swiftly. The ninth Nazgûl, Uvatha the Horseman, flew across the room. He put himself between his master and Aragorn, intentionally blocking their view of each other. Uvatha was said to be a horse-whisperer, with the skill of quieting frenzied animals. "Eyes on me, easy, easy there, steady." Sauron stepped sideways to get around his servant, but Uvatha anticipated his Master's movements and mirrored them, deliberately blocking Sauron's forward motion.

By this time, Angmar and Khamûl had crossed the room and caught up with them. Each caught his Master by an arm. Sauron, restrained by his two most powerful servants, stood stock still with his elbows pinned behind his back, unable to move.

Khamûl squeezed Sauron's wrist as hard as he could, forcing his fingers to uncurl from around the neck of the bottle. The jagged glass hit the floor with a tinkling sound. Khamûl sent it spinning across the room with a swift kick, putting it out of the reach of both his master and of Gondor.

By this time, the Gondor side of the room was as good as empty. As soon as it the bottle shattered against the table, Pallando had given the order, "Clear the room. Now!"

The Mordor delegation waited until events had played out, then they also filed out of the room. Sauron allowed himself to be led from the room between two of his most powerful servants. Each one held him firmly by an arm, holding him fast. He held his hands in front of him, rubbing his wrist where Khamûl squeezed it.

Faramir said later, "That first day, when we first saw Sauron enter the room dressed all in black, I was deeply afraid of him. But it was nothing compared to how I felt when I saw him coming right at me with that evil looking weapon in his hand."


	22. After Action Discussions

**After Action Discussions**

West Osgiliath, Gondor Camp

Late Afternoon, April 7th, TA 3019

Because the conference had ended abruptly in mid-afternoon, the delegates retired to their own camps on either side of the river. At the Gondor camp, those who had witnessed the fracas discussed it from all angles.

"That was amazing!" said Boromir. "Sauron lost it and went flying across the room to carve Aragorn up with a broken bottle. Then three Nazgûl took him down. They caught him and disarmed him with no problem. I hear he was led out like a prisoner with his hands bound in front of him."

"What do you suppose he'll do to them? You'd think they'd be punished for tackling him like that?" asked another.

"Well, we could pay attention tomorrow and notice whether any of them are moving gingerly." suggested Boromir.

"Or not there at all." said Gûlon. "If we don't see Nazgûl numbers One and Two tomorrow, and we get numbers Five and Six instead, we'll know they got in trouble for what they did today."

"You can tell them apart?" asked Faramir.

"Not even. It's a shame they don't wear numbers."

"What I don't understand is, aren't the Nazgûl slaves to their Master's will and completely under his control?" Aragorn said. "How could they tackle him and drag him out of the room? He could have commanded them to let him go."

"Perhaps Sauron allowed his servants to seize him. They're acting in his best interests, after all. Perhaps he even commanded it as a way to save face." Radagast suggested.

"Save face?" asked Aragorn.

"Sure." said Radagast. "Suppose, halfway across the room, he regained control of his temper and decided not to do anything to you. For him to stop in his tracks, put the weapon down, and go back to his seat would have made him look stupid. But being seized and dragged back would not.

"In either case," Radagast said "I don't think Aragorn was ever in any real danger."


	23. Aragorn's Apology

**Aragorn's Apology**

West Osgiliath, Gondor Camp

Late Afternoon, April 7th, TA 3019

After Sauron tried to attack Aragorn, the first day of the conference ended abruptly, and Pallando banned both of the Principals from the Great Hall. Sauron was banned for attacking Aragorn with a deadly weapon, that much was obvious.

But Aragorn didn't understand why he was banned as well. Pallando pointed out that since he had been needling Sauron all day to try to make him lose his temper, Aragorn shared in the blame. In fact, Pallando required Aragorn to write a letter of apology to Sauron as a condition for being allowed back in the Great Hall the following day.

Radagast went over to the manor house where Gondor's headquarters had been set up. He found Aragorn in a beautiful and formal room, struggling to compose a simple letter.

Aragorn was writing the letter only because he had to, and he was hating every minute of it. After several attempts, he showed Radagast his work.

_I wish to formally apologize for my words and actions this morning. I regret what happened. It will not happen again._

_ King Elessar_

"I don't think that will do." Radagast said, after proofreading the letter Aragorn forced himself to write.

"Why not?" asked Aragorn, surprised.

"It's unemotional. It conveys no sense that you actually feel sorry." explained Radagast. "It will just be rejected. It's worse than no apology at all. And remember, you won't be allowed back into the Hall until Sauron accepts your apology."

"Well, I'm not sorry. I don't think I even could write a letter that made it sound like I was. Anyway, I'm the one who almost got carved up with a broken bottle today. Why isn't he apologizing to me?"

"What if I told you the words to say, and you wrote them down. Then all you have to do is sign your name. Would that do?" Radagast dictated, and Aragorn wrote.

_When I teased you this morning, I meant only to annoy, not to wound. I learned later that I caused you terrible pain. For that, I am deeply sorry._

_ Aragorn son of Arathorn_

Aragorn wrote down the words, folded it, and affixed his seal. When he was finished, Radagast took it from him and set off across the Bridge, toward the eastern half of Osgiliath. An hour later, he came back, all smiles. "Easy! Your apology was accepted. You're no longer banned from the Great Hall!


	24. Melkor's Bedroom Ceiling

**Melkor's Bedroom Ceiling **(slash)

East Osgiliath, Mordor Camp

Evening, April 7th, TA 3019

The Mordor delegation had made their headquarters in a large house in the eastern half of the city. The house, actually a former governor's palace, had stood empty for nearly a year, the owners having fled during Mordor's attack on Osgiliath last Midsummer day.

The delegation was camping out in the palace, in that it was semi-ruined. Luxuries were absent, and so were basics like running water, window glass, and major chunks of interior walls. Consequentially, their living arrangements were very informal.

Servants brought from Mordor prepared a simple meal for them, set clean plates and covered dishes of food on a sideboard, and then withdrew.

Sauron came downstairs and went to the kitchen. Most of the others were already there, having already served themselves and found a place at the large kitchen table in the center of the room.

Sauron walked over to the sideboard, narrowly avoiding tripping over the kitchen cat. Sauron liked cats. This one was a stray that one of the servants was feeding. He fixed himself a plate and sat down beside the Witch King, who moved over to make room for him.

Sauron studied the manners of the Númenorian nobles at table, and did his best to imitate them. He admired the Númenorians and their refined ways. He was from Valinor, a land of small farm villages, and he was a rustic compared to them.

His chief ambassador, who was called the Mouth of Sauron, spoke first.

"My Lord, I don't think you should have to wait on yourself at table."

"I don't mind. I grew up that way. One difference between us is that when you were young, you had servants. When I was young, I _was_ a servant."

"Other than Servant of Melkor, I can't see you as any kind of servant. Certainly not as a domestic servant."

"No, really." Sauron said. "I'm guessing I'm the only one here who knows how to cook."

"Since we all had servants to take care of things like that, I expect you're right." said the Mouth.

Sauron paused to listen. The group was unusually quiet. Other than the first and second of his captains, no one had spoken a word since he entered the room. He looked around the table, but everyone suddenly found their plates unusually interesting, and avoided making eye contact with their Master.

"Would someone like to tell me what's going on?" Sauron finally asked.

No one volunteered an answer.

"All right then, let me guess. You're upset with me because I lost my temper and got us all kicked out of the negotiations this afternoon."

Again, no one answered.

He was going to find out. He looked at the faces around the table. He could read Khamûl's mind more easily than any of the others. He hesitated, because Khamûl was sensitive and would feel pain from it, but he went ahead anyway. He focused on Khamûl and pressed him. Khamûl looked away and tried to block him out, but failed.

You're going to tell me.

Khamûl opened his mouth but no words came out.

Why are you acting so oddly tonight?"

An image formed in Khamûl's mind. The Great Hall that day, with the sun slanting through the windows. Elessar leering. " .. On your back." The pen snapping in Sauron's hand.

That was it?

He addressed the group. "About what Elessar said this afternoon. Surely you've heard that old joke before?"

A long, awkward silence followed.

"Come on! You know me. And what you know about me is that I'm absolutely ruthless. I would do anything to increase my own power. Anything. Even that."

They were pretty sure he was kidding, but not entirely.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Sauron never talked about his physical relation with Melkor. Among his own people only Angmar knew, and even to Angmar, Sauron hadn't confided much.

He wouldn't have told him anything at all, except that a few years ago, someone made the usual joke, the same one Elessar made earlier that day. Sauron laughed along with everyone else like he always did. But Angmar saw him look ashamed for the briefest moment, and it was enough for him to guess the truth.

Angmar had an idealized view of his Master, believing him more intelligent, more courageous, and more capable than he actually was. He also believed his Master to be chaste, which Maiar typically are. But Angmar was abruptly disillusioned when he learned Sauron had prostituted himself with his own master. In an instant, hero worship turned into contempt. Angmar was furious with him, and filled with disgust.

It was unpleasant, having Angmar call him a whore, but it concealed the truth, that saying 'no' to Melkor wouldn't have made any difference. And he wasn't about to appear weak in front of his people.

None of them would ever know he'd memorized the pattern in the ceiling above Melkor's bed in Utumno. That he'd focused all his attention on the rough plaster and prayed it would be over soon. Or that he was in tears from shame.

x-x-x-x-x-x

I have two options: parry their questions, or leave the room and let them gossip about me behind my back.

"It's been a long day, so I'm going to turn in early. Don't stay up too late."

With that, he got up and headed for the stairs to the dormitory. He wasn't even out of earshot before the silence around the table was broken by every voice speaking at once.


	25. Getting Frodo Back

**Getting Frodo Back**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Night, April 7th, TA 3019

The Conference organizers called for an emergency meeting between the Principals, to try to patch things up so that negotiations could continue the next day. Given that Aragorn had needled Sauron to the point that he'd snapped, and Sauron had tried to attack him with a broken bottle, it wasn't clear that things could be patched up.

Sauron entered the Great Hall, attended by the Witch King. Aragorn was already there, waiting for him. Gandalf was with him as an advisor. All the organizers from the White Council were there, standing near the neutral midpoint of the room. Their role was to keep the peace. They were aware of how hard that might be tonight, even though the purpose of this meeting was reconciliation.

Sauron shook his head, as if to clear it. "Please excuse me if I'm not quite awake yet. When your messenger arrived, I'd already been in bed for an hour. I was not only asleep, but dreaming."

Aragorn looked surprised. "You sleep? I mean, you're called 'The Lidless Eye'. I always thought that was meant literally."

"I'm a spirit clothed in a physical body, just as you are. I do everything that you do." Aragorn considered that for a moment, then stopped. Too much information.

"I know you're an ancient evil that comes from the Void. I have trouble seeing you as a person rather than a supernatural creature." Aragorn said.

"Those things are true. But they're also true of Gandalf, if you substitute the word 'annoying' for 'evil'." Gandalf scowled.

"But you can convert to spirit form at will?" Aragorn asked.

"Sure. By falling on my sword or throwing myself off a parapet, the same as you." said Sauron.

Pallando interrupted them. "Small talk is fine, but we're here tonight to discuss what happened this afternoon. I want to avoid it happening again tomorrow."

Pallando looked at Sauron. "You attacked Tar-Elessar with a broken bottle. Would you like to tell me about it?"

"It's private. I don't care to discuss it." said Sauron.

"It became public when you smashed the bottle and turned it into a weapon. I think you owe us more of an explanation than that." said Pallando.

"Celebrimbor was my best friend. I kept my past a secret from him because I thought he wouldn't accept me if he knew. But the secret put a barrier between us and made the friendship superficial. He didn't really know me, he only knew the façade I let him see. I was lonely. I wanted him to accept me for who I was.

"So I told him everything. And he rejected me utterly. His face turned to stone, and he said, 'You have one hour to get out. After that, I'm turning you over to the Valar.' Since I was already a fugitive, it was a threat I took seriously. In an instant, I lost my closest friend, my home, and the life I'd built in Eregion."

"And then?"

"I felt like I'd been betrayed. I went on a rampage. Afterwards, he was dead, tortured to death on my orders. I couldn't undo what I'd done." He covered his face with his hands.

Pallando asked, "Are you all right?"

Sauron shook his head.

"I've tried to atone for Tyelpo's death, but it doesn't make any difference. Remorse slams against me like a hammer blow. I expect to spend the rest of my life trying to make atonement."

"What did you do in atonement?"

"I don't allow myself luxuries. My private quarters are almost unfurnished. When I can't sleep, I leave my bed and lie on the stone floor as an act of penance."

"Why did you attack Elessar?"

"He implied I didn't care about Tyelpo, that I enjoyed hurting him. I couldn't stand it. I was trying to shut him up."

x-x-x-x-x-x

The main issue resolved, Gandalf decided to risk asking about Frodo. He admitted to Sauron that Frodo had gone into Mordor with the Ring. Sauron admitted the halfling was still alive, although he said in a vaguely sinister way, "I'm not done with him yet."

Gandalf tried to find out what they might offer to trade for Frodo's safe return. They had no prisoners to exchange and Sauron didn't need gold, so Gandalf proposed that Sauron might accept information as Frodo's ransom.

Sauron named his price. He wanted to know about the conspiracy that brought the Ring into Mordor. And he wanted to know everything about what had happened to the Ring since it was cut from his hand, who had it, who had tried to use it, how it had been lost in Gladden Fields, how long Saruman had been looking for it, how long Gandalf had suspected it was in the Shire, and when and how he had known with certainty.

Sauron remembered how hard they'd looked for the Shire, how they'd searched the length and breadth of Arda. And then when the Nazgûl finally waylaid one of Saruman's spies near Isengard last midsummer and took a map from him, they learned that the Shire was no more than a day's journey south of Utumno [1]. The place he'd been looking for so long was in the backyard of his old home.

Sauron had one more condition. The information Gandalf gave him had to be true. Sauron proposed that Gandalf and Elrond each write a statement detailing the provenance of the Ring since Isildur claimed it, and if the two statements agreed, Sauron would release the halfling. He required the statements to be written immediately, to deny the authors a chance to agree on their story.

Gandalf agreed to Sauron's terms, even though it meant the information they provided about the Council of Elrond, the Fellowship, and the provenance of the Ring had to be as detailed as they could make it, and absolutely true.

Gandalf had a condition of his own. Before he turned over the statements to Sauron, he needed proof that Frodo was alive. Gandalf decided to write a letter to Frodo and ask something only he would know. If a reply came back with the correct answer, he would have his proof. Only then could Sauron could have his payment of information.

The plan had several downsides. The first was that Sauron would know the information in the statements was true as soon as he got them, because he'd know they wouldn't risk a lie that could get Frodo killed. The second was that they had to trust him to fulfill his part of the bargain and return Frodo, and he just wasn't all that trustworthy. But they didn't have a better option, so they agreed to it.

Pallando gave them paper, pens, and ink. Gandalf and Elrond sat down at the table some distance away from each other and began to write. After about an hour, they had each produced a statement many pages long. Gandalf finished first. He folded his letter closed, sealed it, and gave it to Pallando. When Elrond was finished, he looked it over and added a few notations, folded his statement, sealed it, and handed it to Pallando to hold until it was time to make the trade.

Gandalf then penned a letter to Frodo, who by now had been a captive in Mordor for over a month. In it, he told Frodo they were working to ransom him and that he'd be free soon. Then Gandalf picked a test question, "Tell me something only you would know. What needs to be repaired on your front gate?" If the letter came back with the right answer, he'd know Frodo was alive.

When he was done, he folded the letter and sealed it, and wrote 'Frodo' on the outside. He gave Frodo's letter to Pallando, and Pallando gave it to Sauron, who summoned Uvatha and gave it to him with instructions to make the round trip to Barad-dûr as quickly as possible.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Fog was rising from the river. It was completely dark by now, but neither carried a lantern. Both were able to see in the dark. Across the water, light from thousands of campfires dotted the eastern bank where the host of Mordor was camped.

They walked along the Bridge toward the eastern shore, where they would be met by a small group of men-at-arms who would escort them back to Mordor's camp.

Angmar finally spoke.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" asked Sauron.

"How much you suffered in the aftermath of Tyelpo's death. How you live without comforts as a form of atonement."

"Oh, that. I was exaggerating. The way I see it, if Tyelpo hadn't resisted me, I wouldn't have had to torture him to death. I'm sorry it happened, but really, he brought it on himself."

"So what set you off today?"

"Elessar said I wasn't a great craftsman. And if I can't be the best, I'm nothing. I had to shut him up. If you two hadn't pulled me off him, I'd have carved him up."

He fell silent, thinking. Earlier in the day, he'd been too angry for reflection, but during the long walk home, he kept hearing Elessar's words in his head. He tried to shut them out, but he was tired, and his defenses were down.

_Tyelpo really did do his best work after I left. What does that mean? NO. I'm NOT second rate. I am the best there is, or else I'm nothing. _

Just thinking about it made his mouth go dry.

_I pray you, Ilúvatar, don't let Elessar be right._

The whole way back to Mordor's camp, he worked hard to believe he was the equal of any one of the Elven smiths, and fought down the sickening fear that he wasn't.

Notes:

[1]UtumnoBay, an inlet in the Ice Bay of Forochel, is the drowned site of the ruins of Melkor's fortress of Utumno. It is located just north of the Shire.


	26. Sauron's Room at Barad dûr

**Sauron's Room at Barad-dûr**

West Osgiliath, Gondor Camp

Evening, April 7th, TA 3019

Aragorn was skeptical about Sauron's display of remorse over Celebrimbor's death. Just out of curiosity, he sought out Gondor's Loremaster.

Aragorn asked him, "When Mordor was defeated at the end of the Second Age, did they search Barad-dûr before they pulled it down? Is there any record of what they found inside? What I really want to know is, do you know anything about what they found in Sauron's personal quarters?"

"That's an interesting question." said Gûlon. "One of my students looked into that very subject. She's able to talk at great length on that subject. The men who went into Barad-dûr after Mordor fell did a very thorough search and made a detailed inventory, the records of which we still have.

"They found a number of apartments, richly appointed rooms reflecting the wealth and status of their occupants. They were furnished with canopied beds, desks made of rare woods that held small caskets of ivory holding exquisitely made writing tools. On the walls, there were sconces, tapestries, and carved paneling.

"Their personal belongings included chests full of clothes to wear at court, beautiful garments of wool and leather, embroidered silks, and fine linens, as well as jewelry of gemstones and gold. But each room was attributed to a Nazgûl or to a mortal high in Mordor's chain of command.

"They had an extremely hard time identifying Sauron's private quarters, because they were so plain. A hard, narrow bed, a table for writing, and a chest for clothes, but no rugs or tapestries or bed curtains or any of the things you'd expect of someone of his rank. His clothes were ordinary and he had no jewelry.

"In fact, what gave it away were a few pages of writing found on the table. They were rough notes, presumably for the writer's eyes only. They were written in Valarin, Sauron's mother tongue. No one else in Mordor would have scribbled rough notes in Valarin.

"Once the notes were found, they found a second clue, an inscription carved into the stone arch over the door. It was on the inside of the room where only the occupant would see it, but he'd see it every day. The inscription was the prophecy of Sauron's end.

_'.. and walked behind him on the same ruinous path down into the Void.' _

"Apparently the prophecy was important to him. Perhaps he wanted to be reminded of it so it would keep him humble, or perhaps he liked it because it tied him to Morgoth, I don't know."

Aragorn thought it over. He'd assumed Sauron's display of remorse and his assertion that he made atonement by living without luxuries and sleeping on the floor was a fabrication.

But Gûlon corroborated the story. It appeared that what Sauron told him was actually true. Aragorn didn't know what to make of it.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Later, he told Gandalf what he'd learned. The Loremaster had confirmed Sauron's story of atonement, which made Aragorn believe Sauron really was capable of remorse. And if he wasn't entirely evil, Aragorn was more willing to bargain with him.

"Gûlon told you Sauron lived without luxuries following Celebrimbor's death. Let's say that's true. But did you ask, how did he live before he killed Celebrimbor died?" asked Gandalf.

"Meaning what?" said Aragorn.

"What if Sauron lives simply because that's what he likes?" said Gandalf. "Consider this. All the rest of the Great Rings have gemstones and decorations, but the One Ring, the one he made for himself, is plain."

Aragorn felt like he'd been sucker punched.


	27. It's All About Mana

**It's All About Mana**

East Osgiliath, Mordor Camp

Early Morning, April 8th, TA 3019

In the dormitory where the Nobility of Mordor slept, most of the cots were empty, as their occupants had already risen, gotten dressed, and gone downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. An early riser, Sauron was one of the first up, and most of the others had already followed him downstairs. "For a Dark Lord" observed Adûnaphel, "he's the least nocturnal creature I ever met."

Adûnaphel surveyed the room.

Sauron slept in the bed in the far corner against the wall, as far from the door as possible. His most powerful servants had positioned themselves to create a ring of security around him. Angmar had the bed beside Sauron's. The Mouth of Sauron had the second closest bed, just opposite across the aisle, and Khamûl had the one diagonally across the aisle. Any intruder who attempted to reach their Master would have to go through them first.

Akhorahil and his niece Adûnaphel were lower ranking Nazgûl. Their beds further away from their Master.

Night owls and late risers, they were getting up at the same time as their Chief, the Witch King of Angmar. They watched as Angmar, half dressed, held a white shirt in his hand. It slipped from his fingers and fell onto the small wooden chest at the foot of Sauron's bed. He bent to pick it up, then put it on and did up the buttons at the throat.

"Did you see that?" Adûnaphel whispered to her uncle. "That sleight of hand? Angmar dropped his own shirt, and picked up the one Sauron was wearing yesterday. He did it on purpose. Why, do you suppose?"

"My guess is he's wearing our Master's clothes to increase his own power." Akhorahil told her. "It's all about mana. [1] When you have physical contact with someone more powerful than yourself, like our Master, some of his power rubs off on you. A shirt that smells like him probably works just as well."

Adûnaphel had a different view. "There are several different ways to interpret it. You see a sorcerer with ambition. I see a schoolgirl with a crush."

Notes:

[1] Mana - A supernatural force believed to dwell in a person or sacred object. Mana is a dynamic supernatural power or influence dwelling in and flowing from certain individuals, spirits, or things and capable of producing great good or evil.


	28. What Birthday?

**What Birthday?**

East Entrance to the Bridge

Morning, April 8th, TA 3019

The Mordor delegation arrived at the gate to theGreatBridgethat led to Tol Gilthoniel, and from there, it spanned the open water and took them to the middle of the Anduin, where the Basilica was. They went through the same security procedure as they had on the first morning when they arrived, and again in the afternoon when they returned from the break.

They got in line to sign in. An aide sat behind a small table, a ledger book open before him and a pen in his hand.

"Name?" asked the aide.

"Tindomul son of Tar-Ciryatan." said Angmar.

"Date of Birth?"

"September tenth"

The aide bent down to enter his answers in a ledge book, then looked up to take information from the next person.

"Name?" asked the aide.

"Sauron Gorthaur"

"Date of Birth?"

"March twenty fifth"

The aide bent down to write in the ledger book, then looked up at the next person waiting to be admitted. Angmar didn't think anything of it, other than he noticed it was the same birth date his Master gave the day before. Angmar allowed himself to be searched, then listened to a review of the conference rules.

All of a sudden, he stopped in his tracks and whirled around. to face his Master, who was standing with his feet apart and arms away from his body, while a conference aide searched him for weapons.

"Wait a minute! You don't have a birthday." Angmar said.

Sauron laughed. "It took you this long to figure that out?"


	29. Sauron's Apology

**Sauron's Apology**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Morning, April 8th, TA 3019

The second day of the conference opened as if nothing had happened the day before. Then Pallando looked meaningfully at Sauron, who reluctantly got to his feet and took a deep breath.

"I wish to apologize to all present for losing my temper yesterday. I know that my actions caused others distress, and for that I am sorry. I promised Pallando I will control my temper today."

Gandalf leaned forward and touched Aragorn's shoulder.

"What do you notice about Sauron's wrist?" Gandalf whispered to Aragorn,

"He has purple bruises on it where Nazgûl Number Two grabbed him and forced him to drop the broken bottle." said Aragorn. "It looks like he really hurt him."

"Yet the Nazgûl who grabbed him, Numbers One, Two, and Nine, are here today, and apparently unharmed. Maybe Sauron commanded them to seize him, after all." said Gandalf.


	30. If you tell that story here

**If You Tell That Story Here, I Will Kill You**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Morning, April 8th, TA 3019

During some point in the discussion, Sauron and the Witch King disagreed on some point that affected the border in Ithilien in the North, near Minas Morgul. The discussion became a heated argument.

"I thought you enslaved him and had him completely under your will. How's that working out for you? Aragorn asked Sauron.

Sauron laughed. "Angmar is my chief advisor. It's his job to tell me when I'm being an idiot."

_It is his job, but the trouble is, I hate to be criticized, so we've had countless screaming arguments. But I've never hit him, which is more than he can say. At least he was sorry afterwards. All I have to do is touch the crooked part of my nose and he just about dies. I'll tease him about it for the rest of his life._

Sauron continued. "In fact, there was one time that … "

The Witch King wrote something on a slip of paper and slid it over to him. Sauron glanced down at the note for a moment, and quickly changed the subject.

Later, when Pallando was straightening up the room after everyone had left, he found the note. It had fallen to the floor unnoticed and lay among the litter of paper from the day's work. He picked it up and read in the Witch King's handwriting,

"If you tell that story here, I will kill you."


	31. Will The Real Maia Please Stand Up

**Will the Real Maia Please Stand Up**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Late Morning, April 8th, TA 3019

Boromir was sitting along the wall behind the Gondor envoys at the table, next to Gondor's Chief Loremaster from the Great Library at Minas Tirith. Gûlon brought a wealth of historical background knowledge to the negotiations.

In the treaty discussions, they had were discussing the number of guards needed to man a border crossing on a road. By now they were repeating themselves for the third or forth time, and Boromir looked out the window, daydreaming.

As with all educated people in Gondor, to Boromir the Valar were everywhere. InWest Osgiliaththat morning, he passed through the Bull Market on the way to the Bridge and paused to look at the sanctuary of Tulkas the Unconquerable. From where he was sitting right now, he could see the island of Tol Gilthoniel and on it, the grove sacred to Oromë the Hunter.

He leaned over to Gûlon and said, "I was just thinking about Tulkas' sanctuary and Oromë's grove. We know a lot about the Valar and Maiar even though they're spirits from another realm, ancient and distant. It's not like they're people we might run into on the street someday."

"You don't think so?" asked Gûlon.

"If I stopped at the Crown Inn on the way home tonight and saw Tulkas and Oromë at the bar, I'd be very surprised." said Boromir.

"And if I stopped at the Crown Inn tonight and saw Tulkas and Oromë at the bar, I'd need emergency replacement underwear." thought Sauron.

Tulkas and Oromë had arrested Melkor, and while they hadn't found Sauron yet, he'd had two or three close calls.

Boromir leaned over to Gûlon and asked him, "In all your historical records and archives, have you ever heard of anyone who's met one of the Holy Ones?"

"Of course." answered Gûlon. "You have, for example."

Boromir rolled his eyes. "I've never met one. I've never known anybody who's met one."

"No, really. Most people have." said Gûlon. "The Holy Ones move among us, unnoticed and all but invisible. But they're still influencing us, teaching us. They're not uncommon. Wait! I'll show you."

To prove his point, he stood up and called out, "Will everybody in the room stand up, please?" Because Gûlon was very old and very well respected, they did as he asked.

"If you belong to the race of the Men of Númenor, please sit down." Most of the Gondor embassy sat down. So did the Witch King, the Mouth of Sauron, and the Black Númenorians on the Mordor side.

"If you belong to the race of Noldor Elves, please sit down." Elrond sat down.

"If you belong to the race of the Men of Eriador or the Men of the North, please sit down." The allies from Rohan on the Gondor side, and Uvatha on the Mordor side sat down.

"If you belong to the races of Men from Khand, Harad, or Rhûn, please sit down." Khamûl and most of the people representing Mordor's allies sat down.

Five or six people were still standing [2], most of them wizards. They looked at each other, realized what they all had in common, and quickly sat down before being told to.

Gûlon indicated them with a sweep of his hand, and whispered to Boromir, "See? Those are Maiar."

Notes:

[1] The ones still standing were Gandalf, Pallando, Radagast, Saruman, Sauron, and possibly one other from among the minor advisors from Gondor.


	32. Frodo's Letter

**Frodo's Letter**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Late Morning, April 8th, TA 3019

Just before the noontime break, a dusty and exhausted Uvatha stumbled into the Great Hall. He had been riding all night. As the fastest rider, he was often used as a messenger, especially for things that had to get there quickly. Uvatha pulled a small square of folded paper from a leather bag on his belt and placed in front of his Master.

Even from the other side of the room, Gandalf could see the address said "Gandalf", in Frodo's handwriting. Sauron broke the seal and unfolded the letter, his eyes moving as he read.

"Excuse me. I believe that letter is addressed to me. May I have it?" said Gandalf.

"I believe you owe me some documents in exchange for it." said Sauron.

Pallando walked over to him and held out his hand. Sauron sighed and surrendered Frodo's letter to him. Pallando already had the packet of letters, one from Gandalf and one from Elrond, detailing what they knew of the Ring's provenance during the three thousand years it had been out of Sauron's hands, the details of the plan formulated at the Council of Elrond the previous Yule, and the journey of the Fellowship afterwards.

It had been hard for Gandalf and Elrond to write their letters, being forced to reveal to the Enemy their plans to oppose him. It felt like a defeat, a humiliation. But they made themselves do it for Frodo.

He went to the center of the room, opened all the letters, and spread them out on the table. After confirming that each contained information, they gave Frodo's letter to Gandalf, and Gandalf and Elrond's letters to Sauron.

Gandalf unfolded and read Frodo's letter, written in what was easily recognizable as Frodo's handwriting:

_Apr 8th_

_I failed. I'm sorry. I want to go home._

_ Frodo_

_p.s. The latch on the front gate sticks open._

Gandalf closed his eyes in relief, and drew a shaky breath. Frodo was alive!


	33. To Catch A Spy

**To Catch A Spy**

West Osgiliath, Gondor Camp

Morning, April 8th, TA 3019

Aragorn invited a small group of his advisors, Denethor and his sons, Arandur, and Gûlon, to walk with him to the Bridge. They walked in silence until they were out of earshot of their headquarters.

"I think we have a spy in our midst. And I plan to expose him."

"Ever since we sat down at the bargaining table this morning, it seemed like Sauron was one step ahead of us. It was as if he knew more about our plans than he should. It was subtle, but pervasive. He seemed to know our overall strategy, the strengths of our armies and defenses, the terms in the treaty we cared about and those we didn't. By yesterdaynoon, I began to suspect Sauron was privy to all our private conversations.

"I'm not surprised he managed to plant a spy among us, he's famous for that. But I haven't been able to figure out who the spy is. I'm not even sure there really is a spy. Perhaps Sauron had a way to eavesdrop on us that we don't know about. Or maybe he's reading our minds while we're in the same room with him. But the not knowing is hard.

"Here's how we'll expose the spy, if he exists. I wrote a script last night that's so insulting, so offensive, and so threatening that if he hears it, he'll come unglued. We'll perform it at our headquarters atnoontoday, then wait and see what happens." said Aragorn. "If we get a reaction, we'll know he's been eavesdropping on us."


	34. Amateur Theater

**Amateur Theater**

Dining Room, Gondor Camp

Noon, April 8th, TA 3019

During the noontime break, the Gondor delegation went back to the Manor House they used as their headquarters. Before they began thenoonmeal, they had work to do. Aragorn passed copies of the script to everyone around the table. They read through them in silence, their lips moving as they mentally rehearsed intonation and timing. Aragorn waited until everyone finished their silent rehearsal, then raised his hand to indicate they were about to go live.

He pointed to Boromir, his cue to begin.

"Sauron has the Ring. Do you think we can still defeat him in battle?" Boromir read from his script.

"Just look at history. Sauron can seize land, but he can never hold it for long. We've pushed him back time after time. Eriador, Umbar, Dagorlad. [1] In each of those, he was wearing the Ring. And that was during the Second Age, when he was at the height of his power." said Gûlon.

"He's weaker now, even though he recovered the Ring." said Denethor. "We can defeat him."

"No only can we defeat him, we can take him prisoner." said Aragorn.

"Isn't that dangerous? Remember what happened to Ar-Pharazôn."

"Ar-Pharazôn was too soft on him. When we capture him, he's going to fare a lot worse." Aragorn read.

"Soft? Ar-Pharazôn paraded him through the streets of Umbar."

"When he's my prisoner, I'll do the same, only he'll be barefoot and in chains." said Aragorn.

"Barefoot up to the neck." suggested Boromir.

"And that's not the only thing I'm going to do to him. Ar-Pharazôn didn't know about the Ring, but I do. I'm going to enjoy taking it off his hand."

"You won't be able to do that. The Ring had a will of its own, separate from his. It would just get tighter." said Gûlon.

"If I can't pull it off easily, I'll use an axe." said Aragorn. "And then, the fun begins. Any suggestions?"

"I'd like to tie his hands behind his back, take him to a barn, and drop a dog's choke collar over his neck. Attach the other end of the chain to a rafter overhead, and leave him standing there, alone all night in the dark, struggling to stay awake or be hanged." said Boromir.

"I have something even better." said Denethor. "Bind him hand and foot to a hurdle and take him to the marketplace on a busy day. Then, invite the crowd to stand around him in a circle. Insult him. Kick him. Spit on him."

"You're being soft. Here's what I'd do. I'd go drinking in the tavern beforehand. I'd stand over him, with one foot on each side of the hurdle. Then, I'd look him in the face as I started to undo my belt, so he'd know exactly what I was about to do." said Aragorn.

"And after we're done with him?" asked Boromir.

"I won't be like Ar-Pharazôn, who made him a royal hostage with an apartment and servants. I'll order him chained to the floor of a stone cell." said Aragorn. "And if he so much as shot off his sarcastic mouth, I'll deprive him of every comfort, even the rags he wears and the straw he lies on."

"He's dangerous. How can we hold him indefinitely?" asked Arandur.

"We're not. When we're done with him, we're going to turn him over to the Valar." said Aragorn.

Notes:

[1] Sauron was defeated in battle on a number of occasions by the Númenorians, even though he was wearing the Ring.

Eriador, SA 1700. After overrunning all of Middle Earth except Lindon and Imladris, Sauron was crushed by the Númenorians and barely made it back to Barad-dûr.

Umbar, SA 3262. Sauron was forced to do obeisance to Ar-Pharazôn, then carried as a hostage to Númenor.

Dagorlad, SA 3430. When the seven-year siege of Barad-dûr was broken, Sauron killed Gil-Galad in single combat, but shortly after when he met Elendil in single combat, both were killed.


	35. Elrond's Ring

**Elrond's Ring**

West Osgiliath, Gondor Camp

Midday, April 8th, TA 3019

During themiddaybreak, Aragorn sat at the dining room table with the rest of the Gondor embassy, finishing theirmiddaymeal. The table was littered with sheets of paper, the pages from a script. Most of them had been turned facedown to conceal what was written on them.

Elrond came in. "Are you ready to head back? I'll walk over with you."

Elrond leaned over to look at one of the pages that hadn't been turned over. Aragorn reached for it and slid it under some other sheets before he could read it.

"What were you doing here, anyway?" asked Elrond.

Aragorn looked embarrassed. "Just getting ready for this afternoon."

Suddenly Elrond yanked the Elven ring from his hand. He flung it down on the table so hard it flew across the surface and hit the floor with a 'tink'. Taking a step backward, he stared at it as though it were poisoned, or cursed.

Aragorn looked at him with alarm. "What happened?"

Elrond looked ashen. "Sauron just put on the Ring."

Gandalf came into the room, looking grave. "Something's happened." he said.

"I know." said Elrond. He pointed to his ring, lying on the floor. Gandalf took a dagger from his belt. Using the tip, he picked it up and put it in a leather pouch, taking great care not to touch it. He handed it back to Elrond.

"What happens next?" asked Aragorn.

"We can't wear them anymore, but Lindon, Imladris, and Lothlorien will still be nurtured by their power. And we know for sure that Sauron has the Ring, but really, we already knew that." said Gandalf.

"If he's had the Ring for weeks, why did he wait until now to put it on?" Elrond wondered aloud.

"I might venture a guess." said Aragorn. Elrond and Gandalf both turned to look at him. "I think Sauron planted a spy among us. I'm trying to catch him. I said a few things that were meant to be overheard and provoke a reaction."

When it was time to go back, they walked to the Bridge in silence.

"The script got a reaction, but it was a bigger reaction than I expected. I imagine things will be tense when we meet with Mordor this afternoon." said Aragorn.


	36. The Dome of Stars

**The Dome of Stars**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Early Afternoon, April 8th, TA 3019

Sauron came into the room. His mouth was a thin, hard line. He didn't look at anyone. When he sat, his back didn't touch the chair.

Radagast noticed it first. "Pallando, something's wrong. You might want to clear the room. He's really dangerous right now."

Pallando sensed something else, too. Sauron's 'presence', always powerful, was far, far stronger than it had been earlier in the day. It was as if a milk white light suddenly burned blindingly bright.

Pallando stood up quickly and was about to speak, but Sauron spoke first.

"I have something to say." He placed both hands on the table in front of him, with his fingers spread. He was wearing the Ring. This was the first time anyone from Gondor had seen it on his hand, or for that matter, had seen it at all. Some of them doubted he had regained it at all, until now.

"I think some of you have forgotten who I am. That is a mistake.

"Do you see that large building over there, with the ruins of a dome?" He walked over to a large window and indicated the citadel housing Rond Goliath, the Dome of the Stars, a palatial building on theRomendacilBridgejust slightly to the north of them. It was part of a sprawling compound that almost touched the Basilica on theGreatBridge. The dome collapsed long ago, but the walls supporting it were mostly intact. It was still possible to see the famous paintings of golden stars against dark blue sky on the remained fragments of the dome.

Sauron looked at the Dome of the Stars, and drew a deep breath to focus his mind. He stood for a moment with his hands at his sides, then raised his arms and sang an incantation, ancient and evil-sounding, yet still beautiful.

The dome didn't so much collapse as explode. Pieces of rubble sailed through the air, some landing in the river with huge splashes, some striking the Basilica itself. The low rumble of destruction traveled through the ground and the structure of the bridge, which they could feel through their feet. Waves caused by the explosion in the river could be heard splashing against the bridge pylons. Limestone colored dust from the collapsing building spread outward in a dusty cloud.

He turned back to look at them. "This was done as a show of power. It was meant to send a message. Don't fuck with me."

Sauron turned on his heel and walked toward the door. In the doorway, he paused and looked directly at Aragorn. "Oh, and one more thing," he said. "I ordered the halfling killed."

The rest of the Mordor delegation rose and followed their Master out of the room, leaving the East side deserted.


	37. What Exactly Did You Say To Him, Anyway?

**What Exactly Did You Say To Him, Anyway?**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Early Afternoon, April 8th, TA 3019

After they left, Aragorn said, "Sauron said he ordered Frodo killed." There was anguish in his voice.

"Frodo may have died weeks ago. We never had any proof that Frodo is still alive." Gandalf said.

Radagast said to Aragorn, "Sauron was just speaking in anger. He's not going to do anything to Frodo. For one thing, he's not done with him yet. He wants to get more information out of him first. And Frodo is a valuable bargaining chip, because Gandalf and Aragorn want him so badly. Sauron would be throwing that away if he killed Frodo, so I don't think he will. Most likely, Frodo isn't in any danger right now." Aragorn almost wept with relief.

Pallando looked toward the East for a few minutes, in the direction where the Mordor delegation had withdrawn. Then he turned his attention to the West side of the room, to the Gondor delegation. He expected to see fear on their faces. Instead, he saw a number of emotions, but mostly embarrassment. And guilt. When he looked their way, Aragorn, Denethor, and Arandur slid deeper into their chairs, trying to become invisible.

"Would somebody like to tell me what just happened?" Pallando demanded.

"Oh. About that." said Aragorn. "We sort of pranked him."

Pallando held him in a long, steady stare.

"I suspected that one of Sauron's spies had infiltrated our headquarters, and I set a trap to catch him. During themiddaybreak, we read from a script full of material designed to upset him. Then we came back here and tried to guess whether he'd overheard it." said Aragorn.

"Based on recent events, I'm assuming he did." said Pallando. "Just for the sake of argument."

"Based on recent events, I think we can say for sure that Sauron placed a spy among us, but we also know the spy is getting information back to him really, really fast." Aragorn said with satisfaction.

"What was in the script?" asked Pallando.

"If the treaty negotiations failed, we would go to war and defeat him in battle. Then, we would take him prisoner and do things to him. And when we were done with him, we would turn him over to the Valar." said Aragorn.

"Well, if you wanted to provoke a reaction, it looks like you succeeded." Pallando said dryly.

Gandalf said to Aragorn, "Ever since we got here, you've been trying to provoke Sauron. I don't think that's a good idea. Maybe you should stop."

"I'm just teasing him." Aragorn said.

"You're finding out what his hot buttons are, and pushing them to see if you can get a reaction out of him. I don't think that's wise." Gandalf warned him. "Sauron has a terrible temper."

Pallando added, "Ossë told me that one time, Morgoth was teasing Sauron, and he just lost it. He turned around and slugged him. There was so much blood, they thought he'd broken his nose. And Sauron loved Morgoth. He was very protective of him."

"What did Morgoth do to him?" asked Aragorn.

"Nothing." said Pallando. "Other than he stopped teasing him. Apparently he was afraid of getting hit again."


	38. Behind Enemy Lines

**Behind Enemy Lines**

East Osgiliath, Mordor Camp

Late Afternoon, April 8th, TA 3019

Radagast waited for a while, then began the trip toward the Mordor Camp. He crossed the Bridge to the eastern shore of the Anduin. It had two sections, because it crossed over theislandofTol Gilthoniel. Radagast could imagine the formal gardens that had once been there, even though some of the island was flooded now, and the rest had reverted to swampland. He followed the main road that led to Minas Morgul, but turned off after a few blocks to cross a small bridge over the Morgulduin, a small tributary of the Anduin.

The bridge connectedEast Osgiliathwith the Fisher-Town of Helluin, a modest suburb of small houses. Helluin was a stone's throw from the Bridge, but worlds away in terms of peace and quiet. The house where the Mordor delegation set up their camp was just a few blocks beyond the bridge, on the right. Radagast had been there before, when the organizers briefed the Mordor delegation about the conference, so he had no trouble finding it.

Even from the foot of the bridge, Radagast could see some of the roadblocks that closed the streets around the house. Each roadblock was guarded by a group of orcs. Radagast felt the hair rise on the back of his neck when he noticed them following him with their eyes. He saw them stiffen and begin to finger their weapons. The Mordor delegation wasn't allowed to bring weapons to the negotiating table, but they sure made up for it back at their own camp. He considered turning back, but the peace conference might fail if Sauron stayed mad. And Sauron could stay mad for a long time, if left to his own devices. Radagast took a deep breath and approached the roadblock at the head of the street in front of the house.

The group of orcs enforcing the roadblock regarded him with wariness. Their posture was tense. Radagast wasn't any more relaxed. All his senses went on high alert. He said as calmly as he could,

"Hello. I'm Radagast. I've come to see Sauron."

They looked at him blankly.

"Can you give him a message from me?"

The guards continued to look at him blankly. Radagast wondered what languages they spoke. They didn't seem to know Common Speech, and he didn't know Orcish or Black Speech, so it might be hard to communicate. He wasn't ready to give up, but he wasn't sure what to do next.

He looked toward the house. An armed patrol of orcs was walking the perimeter of the house, just outside the iron fence. Their leader was on horseback, robed in black. A Nazgûl.

The patrol approached the roadblock. Radagast felt apprehensive, until he realized the Nazgûl was Khamûl, the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur. Rhosgobel was close to Dol Guldur. Radagast and Khamûl weren't exactly acquainted, but each knew who the other was. Radagast hoped Khamûl saw him as harmless.

"Khamûl, I've come to see your Master. Can you take me to him?" Radagast asked. Khamûl told the guards to move the roadblock enough to admit him.

Radagast followed Khamûl to the gates in front of the house where Mordor set up their camp. It was really a ruined palace, one of the grandest residences in Helluin, but t had been empty for many years. The gates were rusted and the yard was choked with weeds. Every window in the house was shuttered closed, but whether from hatred of sunlight or fear of intruders, Radagast couldn't guess.

Khamûl spoke to the group of guards before the main gates. One produced a key, removed the padlock and chain, and wrestled the gate open. He went through the gate and beckoned Radagast to follow. He knocked on the front door and spoke a password. Radagast heard the sound of a heavy bar being slid back. The door opened. Khamûl walked between two guards armed to the teeth, with Radagast in his wake. The guards closed the door and replaced the bar. I'm trapped in here. Radagast fought down rising feelings of anxiety.

They stood in the front hall. The room was dim with the door closed, since all the windows were shuttered. Khamûl sent a servant to take a message to the Witch King. Within a few minutes, the Chief of the Nazgûl entered the room. Like all Nazgûl, he was clothed entirely in black. Tall and imposing, he had to duck his head to get through the doorframe. If Radagast hadn't spent the last two days in the same room with him, he would have found him terrifying. Even so, he still found him terrifying.

"What do you want?" the Witch King asked.

"I'm here to see your Master." said Radagast.

"He left orders that he's not to be disturbed."

"Even so." said Radagast. "I think he might want to see me. I'm kin to him." He knew the Witch King overheard Sauron call him 'cousin' the previous day, and that Sauron had greeting him warmly.

"Followme." he said to Radagast.


	39. I Came To See How You Were Doing

**I Came To See How You Were Doing**

East Osgiliath, Mordor Camp

Late Afternoon, April 8th, TA 3019

The Witch King led Radagast upstairs and showed him to the room where Sauron slept.

Radagast had been afraid to approach the roadblock around the heavily fortified compound, yet he wasn't afraid to approach his cousin, no matter how angry or upset he was. They grew up under the same roof, and he still saw in his cousin the moody teenager who sometimes passed the whole evening meal without looking at anybody or speaking a word, leaving the table as soon as he could get away with it. After he left, someone would explain, "Aulë scolded him" or "he and Eönwë both like the same girl." Radagast, not yet a teenager himself, felt it would have been presumptuous to follow him to try to cheer him up. But now they were both adults, so Radagast felt more like his equal, at least in maturity. He felt more able to provide a kind word if needed, or to try to talk him out of a bad mood.

Radagast knocked on the heavy door. He didn't really need to knock, because Ainur [1] can sense each other's presence. Sauron would already know he was standing here.

"Mairon?" he called. "It's Aiwendil." [2]

From inside the room, he heard a muffled "Go away!" But since no crockery was hurled against the door, he interpreted it as "Come in."

Radagast entered the darkened room, with the Witch King right behind him. The windows were shuttered tight. Even in the dim light, he could tell the room was large and ornate. It might have been the bed chamber of the Governor who once occupied this palace. Now, it was furnished roughly, like a military barracks or hospital ward. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Sauron lying on a narrow bed against the far wall, a pillow pulled over his eyes. His arms were crossed over the pillow which partially covered his face. Radagast thought he saw a glint of gold.

Radagast crossed the room and sat down on the foot of the bed. Sauron held his breath, pretending to be asleep.

After a time, Radagast broke the silence. "I came to see how you're doing."

"Not good. You can leave now."

Radagast waited. A few minutes went by in silence.

"I want to talk." Sauron said finally. He pushed the pillow aside. Radagast waited for him to speak.

"Angmar, will you give us a moment alone? And pull the door shut after you."

The Witch King looked daggers at Radagast. He hesitated for a long moment.

"I'll be right outside the door." he said to his Master. "Summon me if you need me." He left the room, and the door closed behind him with a click of the latch.

"Usually he's privy to all the secrets of my heart, but I don't like to look weak in front of my people." Sauron said. He fell silent, apparently collecting his thoughts.

"I overheard a conversation among the Gondor envoys atmiddaytoday."

A conversation which occurred inside Gondor's headquarters on the West bank of the Anduin, that you and your people aren't allowed anywhere near.

"I overheard a conversation, What if the treaty negotiations failed, and we went to war. And what if Gondor won and took me prisoner? They spent some time inventing gruesome things to do to me. Unpleasant, but about what you'd expect."

The Biter gets Bit. But as soon as he thought it, Radagast felt ashamed.

"But when they were done with me, they'd turn me over to the Valar. When I heard that, I came unglued."

"I don't think they can do that." Radagast said. "Anyway, they weren't discussing an actual plan, they were trying to find out if you had a spy reporting their private conversations to you. They were just reading from a script designed to provoke a reaction."

Sauron considered this for a moment, and seemed to find it plausible. He went on.

"I wasn't able to make myself show up for trial after Melkor met his end. And since I've been my own master, I've done worse than I ever did as Melkor's servant. I won't stand trial. I just can't do it." said Sauron.

"If you were arrested by the Valar, you'd stand trial and go to prison. They wouldn't hurt you." Radagast said.

"I'm not brave enough to face them." said Sauron.

"I've always thought you were brave." Radagast said truthfully.

"I won't go to prison, and I won't do penal servitude." said Sauron.

"I'm probably not supposed to tell you this, but the official word is, as long as you stay in your own realm, the Valar aren't going to come after you." Radagast told him. "But if you try to overrun Eriador or push Gondor into the sea, that will definitely get their attention."

"I won't be taken alive." said Sauron.

You do realize you can't be killed?

Radagast didn't know what else to say. However this ends for Mairon, it isn't going to end well. Radagast reached over and squeezed his cousin's hand. A few minutes passed in silence before he got up to go. He was filled with sadness.

"Take care of yourself." said Radagast.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." said Sauron.

Radagast opened the door and found himself face to face with the Witch King.

"I'll walk you out." The Witch King said, not unkindly.

Notes:

[1] Ainur ("Holy Ones") is the race to which the Valar and Maiar belong.

[2] Sauron's real name is Mairon ("Admirable") Radagast's is Aiwendil ("Bird Friend"). They would have addressed each other by their real names.


	40. Reporting Back

**Reporting Back**

West Osgiliath, White Council's Camp

Early Evening, April 8th, TA 3019

The Witch King escorted Radagast as far as the roadblock at the end of the street in front of Mordor's headquarters. From there, he had a several mile hike back to the manor house when the White Council delegation was staying. As the late afternoon sun sank lower, he crossed the Morgulduin, reached the main highway, and turned west toward Minas Tirith. The highway became a bridge which took him to Tol Gilthoniel. He walked across the island to reach the entrance to the Bridge. The guards who blocked access to the Bridge when the conference was in session had left for the day. The guards were members of White Council delegation, so he expected to see them at dinner.

As he approached the Basilica, he glanced across the courtyard to admire the ruins of the Dome of the Stars, having temporarily forgotten that Sauron blew it up this afternoon. Instead of a few skeletal ribs suggesting where the Dome had once been and most of the building below it intact, there was only a pile of rubble. A plume of stone dust drifted toward Tol Gilthoniel. Radagast tried to gage how much Maia power it would take to blow up a building that size. It crossed his mind that perhaps the magnitude of Sauron's power was Vala-like.

The bronze gates that closed off the courtyard in front of the Basilica were closed, like they always were. As a conference organizer, he had been given keys to the doors of the two anterooms. He let himself into the East Anteroom. It had the usual clutter of tables, chairs, and cots, but had been entirely stripped of paper. Documents, maps, notes, even the contents of the wastebasket had been removed or hidden. The only sign of recent occupation was a row of apples on the windowsill.

He passed through the Great Hall and exited through the West Antechamber. It had been provided with the same furnishings, but they'd been more careless about gathering up their paper. He hoped they didn't mind if Mordor went through their trash, because he assumed that was going to happen.

He locked the West Anteroom door behind him and began the almost mile-long hike to the west bank. The gate at the foot of the bridge was unlocked, and the guards had gone home for the evening. He could hear music from the nearby Crown Inn, although it was south and he was headed north. He passed Gondor's camp, a comfortable Manor House with a view of the water. The White Council's camp was a few blocks further, on the opposite side of the boulevard.

At least an hour after he left Mordor's camp, he found himself walking up the path that led to his own front door. It was beginning to get dark.

The representatives from the White Council sat around the table, having their evening meal. Gandalf was with them. They all looked up when they heard Radagast's footsteps on the gravel path leading to the front door.

"Radagast, you were gone for hours. We were afraid you weren't coming back." said Elrond.

"So how did it go? What happened over there?" Pallando asked.

"There's not much to tell." said Radagast.

"Tell it anyway." said Pallando. "How on earth did you get into Mordor's compound?"

"Yes, how did you get into the Mordor camp at all, when the house is so heavily defended?" asked Gandalf. "Much less get close to Sauron, given how he wraps himself in layer after layer of security?"

"Did you become invisible?" asked Pallando

"Did you shape shift into something small, cross the yard, explore the house, and turn yourself back into you when you found him?" asked Saruman.

"Did you use a sleep spell to knock out everyone in the house?" asked Elrond.

"I got in because I was invited in." said Radagast. I couldn't talk my way past the guards, so I waited until one of the Nazgûl came by, patrolling the perimeter. He came over to see what I wanted, and invited me inside.

"Once I was inside the house, I learned that Sauron had shut himself up in his room. He left orders he was not to be disturbed, took to his bed, and refused to speak to anyone." said Radagast.

"How did you get into his bedroom, then?" asked Saruman.

"The Witch King took me upstairs and showed me to Sauron's room." said Radagast.

"Even though he left orders he wasn't to be disturbed?" asked Pallando.

"The Witch King has more free will than the others." said Radagast. "And watching them together, I observed that Sauron treats him almost like an equal. From what I observed, the Witch King is much more inclined to act as he sees fit than to blindly obey commands. Apparently he decided a visit from me would do his Master good." said Radagast.

"So what happened when you entered Sauron's room?" asked Elrond.

"I went upstairs and sat down on his bed. He was pretty upset about whatever he overheard in the Gondor camp atmiddaytoday, and not in the mood to receive visitors. But I stayed, and he calmed down after a while. He just needed to vent is all, and he needed for someone to listen. He'll be fine. We can start negotiations tomorrow morning at the usual time.

"What did you talk about?" asked Elrond.

"People we both knew. Shape shifting. Dagor Dagorath. Just stuff." said Radagast.

Saruman said, "You said you touched his hand. Did you touch the Ring? What was that like?" Saruman looked wistful. "Gandalf did once. But I never did. I never even got a good look at it."

"I believe he was wearing the Ring, but I didn't really notice. And however much he likes me, I doubt he would have let me touch it." said Radagast.

"Did you ask about Frodo?" asked Gandalf.

"No. I didn't want him to think that's why I was there. I didn't want him to feel manipulated." said Radagast.

"Why were you there, then? I assume it was to save the treaty negotiations." said Pallando.

"Yes. But also because he's my cousin, and he was upset."


	41. Mutually Pranked

**Mutually Pranked**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Evening, April 8th, TA 3019

Aragorn sat at one end of the table and Sauron at the other, each with their arms crossed, glaring at each other. Pallando was just happy to have gotten them in the same room. Once again, he was trying to patch up a quarrel from that afternoon so negotiations could proceed on the following day. They had only planned to sit down at the table together for three days, and tomorrow was the final day.

Pallando spoke. "Each of you pranked the other today. It turns out that neither prank had any basis in fact. Yet, each of you fell for it and became extremely upset. So I'm telling you both, just let it go and put it behind you.

"Now, as I understand it, Gondor was trying to flush out a spy. They did it by reading from a script so offensive, they'd be able to tell, just by looking, if you'd gotten wind of it. And if you had, then you must have placed a spy into their midst. Simple.

"And Sauron, for the record, they don't have the ability to turn anyone over the Valar. The Valar don't even have much interest in Arda, or in you. As long as you don't do anything too outrageous, they won't pay much attention to you."

Pallando turned to Aragorn next. "There's no reason to think Sauron ordered Frodo killed. Rangers are watching the road to Minas Morgul. Sauron claimed, atmiddaytoday, he ordered Frodo killed. The Rangers haven't seen any messengers on the road since Uvatha left here last night. Tar-Elessar, am I right?"

"Yes." said Aragorn.

"Plus, Sauron isn't done with Frodo yet. He wants to get more information from him first. Is that right?"

"Yes." said Sauron.

"And, because Gandalf and Elessar want him so badly, Frodo is a valuable bargaining chip. Sauron won't throw him away in a fit of temper. Am I right?"

"Yes." said Sauron.

"You pranked each other." said Pallando. "I know you're both mad. Get over it.

"Tomorrow morning, we are going to sit down at the table and hammer out a peace treaty. I am going to remind you of the rules.

"You will treat each other with respect at all times. That means no teasing, no threats, and no sarcastic comments.

"You will not bring weapons into the room. You will not physically attack your counterparts, or blow up historically important buildings.

"You will keep a safe separation distance between each other at all times. You will not cross the line dividing the room. Gondor is confined to the West half, and Mordor to the East.

"There's one more thing which concerns me greatly, and that's the level of personal animosity between the two of you. It's been a problem since the beginning.

"Would the treaty have a better chance of succeeding if I banned both of you from the room? If you weren't picking on each other and upsetting your subordinates, would it go better?" asked Pallando.

Both Principals looked embarrassed.

"Is that what you want?" asked Pallando.

"No." they both answered at the same time.

"Here's what I'm going to do." said Pallando. "We'll start with both of you at the table, but if either one of you says or does anything that I think even appears to be hostile toward the other, I'm banning both of you from the room. You'll still be able to participate, but from the Anteroom, through messengers.

"You don't have to like each other, just be respectful. And if you can't do that, just be polite. And if you can't do even that, then just be quiet."

With that, Pallando dismissed them until morning.


	42. Sauron's Temper

**Sauron's Temper**

East Osgiliath, Mordor Camp

Evening, April 8th, TA 3019

"Mairon, a word?"

Angmar's mouth was dry, and he could hear his own pulse. He'd rehearsed what he needed to say, but it was hard to start.

They were in the dormitory. For reasons of physical security, all the high-ranking people from the delegation from Mordor slept upstairs in a single room. Once an opulent state bedroom, the room was now furnished like an army barracks. Twelve narrow beds were arranged in two rows of six. Closely spaced, the narrow beds used up most of the floor space, except for a narrow aisle down the center.

Their guards, servants, and aides slept downstairs, arranged so that they blocked the front door and also blocked access to the building's only staircase. Security in the Mordor camp was phenomenally tight.

Sauron had gone upstairs, getting ready for bed. He normally retired early, so this was a good chance to catch him alone and speak privately. Most of the others were still downstairs, talking about the day and playing dice around the kitchen table. Adûnaphel and Khamûl, at the far end of the room, were also getting ready to go to bed. Sauron motioned for them to leave the room.

Sauron turned back to Angmar and gave him his full attention. His face was relaxed, but Angmar noticed he was holding his breath, and his posture was rigid. Sauron did not like to be criticized. Even a minor comment, one that wouldn't offend anyone else, could make him fly into a rage. He didn't just refute a criticism, he verbally shredded the person who made it. Angmar understood the risk he was taking.

Angmar tried again. "I'm worried about your temper."

Behind the mild façade, Angmar saw his Master go into full red alert.

Angmar continued. "Elessar is baiting you. He spent the last two days probing to find out what your sore spots are, and once he found them, he goaded you until you blew up. He's intuitive enough to read you and discover what will upset you the most. And he's cunning enough to find just the right words to make you go nuts. It looks bad. Furthermore, it's dangerous."

"Don't lecture me." Sauron said. His voice was low and threatening.

"Mairon, please! I'm trying to help you! You're a very angry person. That's fine, that's just who you are. But you have to learn to control it."

Sauron glared at him. "Mine is an ice cold anger. I don't lose my temper, I get revenge."

You don't lose your temper? You just attacked the King of Gondor with a broken bottle.

"There are things you can do. You can anticipate it and plan how you'll react. You can count to ten. You can leave the room." Angmar said. "You can reframe things so they seem less threatening."

Just then Adûnaphel, the seventh Nazgûl, came back into the room, closely followed by Khamûl. Angmar suspected Khamûl and Adûnaphel were an item, if only because they were always together, but he wasn't sure. Adûnaphel wore a shift to sleep in, and was wrapped in a blanket for modesty. She was the only one of them who went into the lavatory to get dressed. The men just stripped where they were and dropped their clothes on the floor.

With other people in the room, their conversation ended early. Angmar resumed his formal voice. "My Lord, please think about what I've said. We'll talk again in the morning. I pray you have a good night."


	43. Sauron's Worst Nightmare

**Melkor's Cell**

**A Rude Awakening**

Sauron opened his eyes. He found himself lying on a narrow bed in a windowless room, with absolutely no idea how he got there.

He sat up. He was wearing the clothes he'd had on when he was captured. They were muddy and ragged, and there were burrs in his hair. He must have been fleeing, evading capture, seeking safety in the wild places. Obviously it hadn't worked.

**The Cell**

He looked around. The room was long and narrow, divided in half by an iron grating with a small door, more like a hatch, in the middle. He tried it, but found it locked. He tried shape-shifting into something small enough to get through the grating. For the first time in his life, nothing happened.

Beyond the grating, he saw a massive iron door set into the stone wall. He noticed a narrow barred window in the door about the size of a letter slot. A spy hole. He tried to look through it, but couldn't.

He walked to the far side of his cell. There was a hole in the grating, a narrow opening just large enough to allow a food tray to be passed into the cell. Next to it, a water pitcher sat on the floor near a spigot. He tried it, and water ran across the floor to a drain hole a few feet away.

**Iron Rings For Chains**

Then he saw the row of iron rings in the wall. They looked like attachment points for chains. He looked again and saw a corresponding set mounted in shallow depressions in the floor.

He knew where he was. This was Melkor's old cell, in the sub-basements of the Prison Fortress of Mandos.

Melkor never spoke of the cell where he lay chained for three ages, so Sauron didn't know much about it. But he believed this was it. He sensed the strength of the enchantments laid around it, sealing the cell far more effectively than stone and iron. This was not an ordinary cell. None could escape.

**Comfortable Furnishings**

He didn't know what it had been like in Melkor's day, but he could imagine The only furnishings in the cell were the rings in the walls and floor that held his chains. Melkor's bed was the cold stone floor, his blankets were the rags he wore, and his plate and fork were his hands, to the limited extent he could use them. The privy was the hole in the floor. He was probably left in darkness most of the time.

The cell had been made more comfortable since then. In addition to the bed, there was a table and chair, and in the far corner, a bucket with a lid. The table was set with a dinner tray and cup. It also held some books, writing paper, quills, and ink. A pair of lamps flanking the iron door provided warm yellow light for the whole room.

There were no lamps inside the grating, so the shadows were deeper at his end of the room, but there was still enough light to read by.

But even though the cell was comfortably furnished, nothing could drive out the cold and damp. It he sat still long enough, the chill reached into the marrow of his bones. He wrapped himself in the blanket whenever he sat still at the table, or even when he paced the floor.

**On The Sidelines**

Sauron didn't think he was being punished, although he wondered why not. The cell was furnished, and the food seemed to be the same as might be served to the guards. Normally the best you could say about prison food was it was nutrition, and usually not enough.

He thought perhaps he was being constrained while something else happened, important enough that someone wanted him kept out of the way. He couldn't imagine what it might be. He wished he had someone to ask.

**First Contact**

He was sitting on the bed, playing Cat's Cradle with a piece of yarn he pulled loose from the blanket, when he sensed the presence of someone nearby. He looked up and saw the cover plate over the spy hole slide open.

"Hello?" he said.

He walked up to the grating. The cover plate slammed shut.

"Wait! Don't go! Talk to me!" he shouted.

He stood against the grating and stared at the door long after the other person left.

**Isolation**

Sometime later, he heard the cover plate slide back, but this time, he heard the sound of a key in the lock. He heard a bolt being pushed back, and the door swung open.

He saw a guard, one of Námo's people, come in with a tray. When he guard let go of the door, it swung shut by itself.

The guard walked toward the pass-through in the grating, but stopped when he reached a line on the floor about three feet away from the grating. The guard set the tray on the floor and pushed it towards the pass-through.

"What's your name?" Sauron asked. The man never even looked at him.

The guard turned to go. He knocked on the door. Sauron heard a key turning in the lock, and the door was pushed open by an unseen person on the other side.

"Why am I here? Am I awaiting trial?" Sauron said to his retreating back. It was possible his trial already happened. He wished somebody would tell him.

The guard left, and the door swung shut and locked itself behind him. The cover plate slid closed. Sauron noticed there was no keyhole or handle on this side. People could get locked in here by accident.

**Too Dangerous To Approach**

He knelt beside the pass-through and reached through the opening. The tray was just out of reach. He changed position and stretched a little further. He managed to snag the edge of the tray with the tips of his fingers, and pulled it in with no problem.

Sauron was outgoing by nature, so the social isolation was hard on him. The next time the guard came close to the grating, he'd reach through it, seize him by the arm, and hang on to him until he said something.

As an experiment, he pushed the tray aside and lay on the floor. He put his arm into the pass-through as far as it would go, all the way up to his shoulder. But no matter how he tried, his fingers fell a few inches short of the line painted on the floor.

All of a sudden, he knew what the line was for. It was to warn the guards to stay back. No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to touch someone who stayed on the other side of it.

**Concealed Weapons**

**A Knife In His Boot**

Sauron had no one to talk to, so in addition to being bored, he was lonely. He was frustrated by the guard's silence and considered various ways to get him to talk. The second day of his imprisonment, when the guard came in with a breakfast tray, he said with studied casualness, "So, you must not have searched me when I was brought in here. Or if you did, you did a poor job of it. The knife I always carry in my boot is still there."

That was a lie. He did carry a little knife in his boot, but it was missing, and so was the dagger he'd been wearing on his belt when he was captured

The guard looked right at him and said, "Hand it over, then." He pointed to the pass-through. Enjoying this game, Sauron said, "Come and get it." _Finally, someone was speaking to him. What a relief,_ he thought.

"Tell you what." said the guard. "I'll trade you the knife for the tray. You go first." Sauron didn't really have a knife, so he acted as if he were being stubborn. The guard shrugged and left the room, taking the tray with him.

**Water Shut Off**

Sauron picked up the water pitcher, pouring yesterday's water down the drain hole before refilling it with cold water from the spigot. He turned the handle and a small trickle of water ran out, then nothing. He poured the water from the pitcher to the cup. It was only one finger deep. He regretted pouring the water down the drain because he didn't know how long this game was going to last.

At noon, the guard returned with a tray for the midday meal. Again he spoke. "A trade. The tray for the knife. You'll get the water turned back on, too." Sauron was getting tired of the game by now. Like all Ainur, he could go a long time without food, but he was starting to be uncomfortable from thirst.

"You win. I'll do what you want. But I don't actually have a knife. I just made that up." The guard gave him a look of disbelief and left, taking the tray with him. _The trouble with being an accomplished liar, _he thought_, is that people don't believe you when you're telling the truth._ His word was not good and everybody knew it.

**Bringing In Reinforcements**

In the late afternoon, the outer door opened and the guard came in, accompanied by four others Sauron hadn't seen before. One of them carried a pair of irons connected by a short length of chain. He was giving orders to the others, and appeared to be their captain.

"I suggest you turn over the knife." The guard captain said. Sauron was silent. "Then we're going to have to search the cell and everything in it, including you." Sauron repeated the story he'd told the guard. The Captain's eyes weren't cruel, but he was unmoved by anything Sauron had to say.

The guard captain motioned Sauron over to the grating, and indicated he should sit on the floor with his back against it, and put his hands through the holes. Sauron did, and didn't like it. The man locked an iron cuff around each of Sauron's wrists.

Chained to the grating, Sauron tried to make himself comfortable by leaning against it and watching the guards at work. His nose itched. He felt resigned.

Two guards crossed the white line and walked up to the hatch in the grating. They knelt and did something to release the catches on the hatch cover. Sauron couldn't tell what it was, because a metal plate blocked his view of the locking mechanism.

They lifted the cover, which was hinged along the top. Three of them climbed in through the narrow opening on their hands and knees while the fourth held it open for them. The largest of them could barely get through the narrow opening. He almost got stuck in the middle, but was able to free himself with some difficulty and squeeze through.

While he watched them, Sauron idly wondered how he'd gotten in here. He was bigger than the one who got stuck. For that matter, how did they get the furniture in? Maybe they took it apart and reassembled it inside the cell.

Once the last of the three guards was inside the cell, the one holding the hatch cover released it and let it f closed. The guard captain also remained outside. He stood near Sauron and watched him closely.

**Cell Search**

The three guards searched the bedding and turned over the mattress, feeling for metal. They looked underneath the bed, table, and chair. They looked in the pitcher. They flipped through the pages of the books and under the writing paper. They searched every corner of the cell.

Satisfied there wasn't a knife hidden in the room, the guards walked toward Sauron, regarding him with detached interest. "You're next." They stood around him in a half circle, looking vaguely threatening.

**Body Search**

After they finished with him, Sauron decided that trying to fight them off was probably not the best idea he'd ever had. Especially not when it was three against one, with his hands behind his back. But he was bad-tempered from hunger and just hadn't felt like cooperating, and he was a fighter by nature.

So now he knew what it was like to like to lie face down on the cold stone floor with his arms twisted behind his back as far as they would go, and a boot on his neck. Never mind the searching part, which got a lot more personal than he had expected.

When they finished with him, the two who remained outside the cell opened the cover to let the others out. It must have locked itself when it closed, because it took two of them working together to open it.

They lifted the hatch cover, and the three guards in the cell crawled through the opening. When the last one was out, the hatch cover was released. The guard captain shook it to make sure it was locked. Only then did he produce a key and remove the irons from Sauron's wrists.

The guard captain pounded on the outer door. It swung open, and the five of them filed out. The door swung shut and locked itself behind them. The cover over the spy hole closed.

Sauron stood and rubbed his wrists, which had gone numb. Then he tried the spigot. Water flowed freely. He put his head under it and drank.

**Jailhouse Fever**

**Falling Ill**

During the afternoon of the fourth day of his imprisonment, Sauron felt ill tempered and out of sorts, without being upset about anything in particular. By early evening, he had a headache and went to bed earlier than normal. He lay down without bothering to get undressed for the night, feeling unwell.

He was restless during the night. In the morning, he woke up soaked in sweat. He was shaking with cold but burning hot behind the eyes. He pulled up his knees to ease the pain in his stomach. When the guard brought his breakfast, he said he didn't want it, but could he have a cup of tea instead and something for nausea?

The guard told him, "If you're going to be sick, do it in the drain hole, because I can't get in there and clean up after you. Not without my captain's say so, that's for sure." He left the room, taking the tray with him.

He came back with tea and an extra blanket, and put them through the pass-through. Sauron put his feet on the floor and started to stand up, but lay down again when the room started to spin. He didn't think he could walk.

**Medical Assistance**

Sometime later, the guard came back to check on him. He left and returned with others, including his captain, who was carrying a pair of irons.

The captain directed Sauron to come over to the grating at the position furthest from the door. Sauron didn't think he could make it that far, so he crawled to the part of the grating that was closest. His arms collapsed underneath him, and he lay on the floor, feeling wretched.

The captain reached his arm through the grating and touched his face, but yanked back when another guard yelled, "Be careful, he bites!" The man pushed up his sleeve and displayed a half-moon shaped bruise. "I got this when we tried to search him." he said.

**Exercising Caution**

"Feigning illness to lure guards into the cell is an ancient ruse." the captain said to the others. "And this prisoner is particularly strong and cunning.

"I think he really is sick." said a guard.

"It could be he's pretending to be more incapacitated than he really is. We need to handle this with extreme caution. He's very, very manipulative. That's why you're all under orders not to talk to him. He might actually be able to talk his way out of this cell. We need to treat him like a dangerous prisoner who's healthy and strong."

The captain told Sauron to put his hands over his head, through holes in the grating. He did it, and the captain snapped the irons on his wrists. The guards unlocked the grating door. The captain and two others entered the cell. One of the guards knelt beside him. "I can feel the heat coming off his body, even without touching him. And I don't think he's more than semi-conscious."

They would have picked him up and carried him to bed, but the captain wouldn't allow them to unchain him while the guards were still in the cell. They left him lying on the floor chained to the grating, but they covered him with the extra blanket, and put the tea within easy reach.

They left the cell. The captain removed the irons from Sauron's wrists. He pulled his arms back in through the grating and wrapped them around himself, but he didn't get up.

The guards came back a few hours later. They had a healer with them, one of Estë's people. Sauron was lying on the floor where they'd left him, shivering and uncomfortable. The captain chained him to the grating. The guards opened the hatch and entered the cell, followed by the healer.

**Diagnosing Plague**

The healer knelt beside the patient. "There's plague in the region where you were captured. I'm pretty sure you have it, too." the healer told him. "You're not going to die, but you're in for a rough time." While he talked, he felt his patient's forehead for fever, felt for swelling at the base of each limb, and pressed on his stomach with firm pressure. So firm that his patient pleaded, "No. Please stop. I'm going to be ..."

After they cleaned him up, the healer tried to give him medicine. Sauron twisted away from the phial of bitter liquid, but the healer knew a few tricks for getting drugs into unwilling patients.

The healer directed the guards to rearrange the furniture in the cell. They moved the bed from the back wall to the side wall, with the pillow against the grating.

While they worked, Sauron lay on the floor with his eyes closed. He heard the healer and the guard captain arguing about him. The healer wanted to unchain him so they could lift him onto the bed, but the guard captain wouldn't hear of it.

On the other hand, the healer refused to put a sleep spell on a patient who had just been sick. It wasn't safe. Finally the guard captain agreed that if the prisoner were bound hand and foot, he would remove the chains, but only for as long as it took to move him.

**Setting Up A Sickroom**

That done, the two guards struggled to lift Sauron's limp form onto the bed. He was still wearing day clothes, so once they had him settled into bed, they undressed him to make him more comfortable.

One of the guards put the chair beside the bed to make a nightstand, and put a basin and a cup of water on it. The other guard brought over everything else he might need, and arranged it within easy reach. The healer covered him with the extra blanket.

**Let It Run Its Course**

After the guards left the cell and locked the hatch behind them, the guard captain unchained his wrists. By then, the medicine was starting to work. He was falling asleep, and didn't stir.

Sauron was deeply grateful to the healer for thinking to position the head of his bed against the grating, and inwardly thanked him for his kindness. The next time the guards needed him to wear irons, when they came in to take care of him, all he had to do was reach his arms over his head across the pillow and put his wrists through the grating. He wouldn't have to leave his bed and crawl across the floor. Or worse, try to crawl back to bed after they left, because he didn't think he could.

Sauron had had the plague before.[1] In the Second Age, plague swept through Gondor. It reached Mirkwood the year after. Sauron, who was living in Dol Guldur at the time, was one of its victims. It didn't kill him, but he had a pretty good idea of what the healer meant by being in for a rough time of it.

**Námo**

**Soap and Water**

On the first day he felt well enough to leave his bed and get dressed, Sauron heard the key in the outer door. When it opened, two guards entered the room. One was carrying a washbasin and the other had a folded stack of clothing.

They told Sauron he was to wash and put on clean clothes. He had not bathed or changed clothes during his captivity, and was badly in need of both. His hair hung in greasy strings. The cycling fever and the sweating it caused hadn't made him smell any better. Fastidious by nature, it was unlike him to stay grimy for long, even when he was working in the Forge.

The first guard put the washbasin through the pass-through. The second guard put the stack of clothes on the floor in front of it where he could reach them easily. Then they left the room. Sauron noticed that the metal cover over the spy hole in the door remained open.

There were towels in the washbasin. Underneath them was a piece of soap. Sauron the washbasin underneath the spigot and turned on the water. While waiting for it to fill, he stripped off his clothes and dropped them on the floor. He normally folded anything he took off and stacked it neatly, but his clothes were so filthy, he knew he wouldn't be putting them on again. He used the pitcher to pour water over his head. The water was cold, but it couldn't be helped. Being clean was a luxury and he intended to enjoy it.

After he finished, Sauron wrapped himself in a towel and finger combed his wet hair. He felt good for the first time since he woke up in the cell. Then he went over to look at the clothes.

**Clean Clothes**

The clothes they brought him were new and clean, in colors that looked good on him. They were made from fine materials. The cuffs of the sleeves were decorated with embroidery. He admired skilled workmanship, even though he rarely wore fine clothing himself.

Then he had another thought, and froze. The clothes were for a formal or even a ceremonial occasion. What he needed in a prison cell were everyday clothes, preferably warm ones. The only ceremonial occasion in his near future that he could think of was a summons to the Circle of Doom.

**A Prophecy**

Soon after he finished dressing, the outer door opened. He had a visitor. Normally he looked forward to having someone to talk to. But he fell silent when Námo, the Lord of Mandos, entered the room accompanied by two of his people. Lord Námo, grim and unsmiling, was the only one among the Valar who revealed prophecies and pronounced doom.

Námo spoke.

"_But in after years he rose like a shadow of Morgoth and a ghost of his malice, and walked behind him on the same ruinous path down into the Void_."

**The Summons**

Námo told Sauron he was summoned to the Circle of Doom. Námo himself was going to take him there. Sauron was about to face what he'd avoided for so long. He stood there, stricken. It was about to happen. He had known about the prophecy for a long time, but it was in the distant future so he hadn't worried about it. Until now.

_I have nothing left to fight with. I have lost. It is time to negotiate the terms of surrender._

Námo spoke a few words, and the grating slid up into the ceiling. He commanded Sauron to step forward.

One of the guards held chains. Another took hold of Sauron's wrist. The outside door was unlocked and pushed open an inch or two.

**Escape Attempt**

Without thinking, Sauron shoved the first guard aside, punched the second, and bolted through the open door. He went flying down the corridor towards the stairs ..

_Daylight!_

until he tripped over a wire stretched across the passage, and fell flat on his face. He was on his feet in an instant, and already running, when Námo stepped through the door and ordered him to stop.

_Not going to happen. _

He heard Námo speak an incantation. A white light exploded in his head and dropped him in his tracks.

The Circle of Doom

**Mahanaxar**

When he came to, he was lying on his belly with his cheek against the cold marble floor. His hands were bound behind his back. When he tried to move, he heard the clink of chains. Not good. His vision returned slowly. He saw feet and the hems of robes everywhere he looked. From their voices, he knew they were members of the Council of Valar

Ever since the end of the First Age when Melkor fell, Sauron's greatest fear was of being brought to the Circle of Doom and standing before the Valar. Now he was here.

Manwë was the first to speak. "First of all, this isn't a trial. You were tried in absentia long ago. We are here to pass sentence. Is there anything you'd like to say first?" said Manwë.

"There is." said Sauron.

He arched his back to look at Manwë, but almost immediately, fell face forward with a cramp in his neck. With great difficulty, he managed to get one knee under his body, then the other. He sat on his heels, lifted his chin, and looked Manwë in the eye.

"You have no right to judge me." he said.

"Excuse me?" asked Manwë.

"You have no right to judge me. This proceeding is illegal. When I left to follow Melkor, I moved from Valinor to Arda, outside of your jurisdiction. The laws of Valinor do not apply to Arda."

_And even if they do, just try to enforce them. You're never there, _he thought.

"You cannot convict me for breaking the laws of Valinor, because I dwell in Arda, and they do not apply to me."

"The jurisdiction of the Valar covers all of Ea." said Manwë.

_Shit._

"Would you like to know the charges against you?" asked Manwë.

_Bite me._

"I'll take that as a yes." said Manwë. "In addition to the crimes you committed while serving Morgoth, you tortured the Elven smith Celebrimbor to death and led the invasion of Eriador. Whole populated regions disappeared. You masterminded the Invasion of Valinor, which was very nearly successful. It resulted in the drowning of Númenor and the extinction of the Númenorian people. You started the Great Plague which decimated Gondor, and you imprisoned the Dwarven king Thrain, who went mad before he died."

Sauron listened to the charges. His face held no expression.

_I didn't even do all of those things. I didn't start the Plague, I claimed to have done it. I never intended the invasion of Valinor to be successful. They only got through by accident. And I didn't drown Númenor, Ilúvatar did. _

"And there's one other thing. You hit the guard who took care of you while you were ill. He's injured, by the way."

"Please tell him I'm sorry." Sauron said.

_I hope he understands why I did it. When I was sick, he must have seen how hard I fought to live,_ Sauron thought.

Sauron knew, when he was honest with himself, that the Valar gave up trying to reform him long ago. His sentence would have no prison term, no penance or servitude. They weren't going to bother to punish him. They just wanted him gone. Not living in Arda anymore. Not living at all.

Manwë pronounced the sentence.

"Sauron Gorthaur", he pronounced in slow formal tones. "The Council has determined that you have gone entirely to evil and cannot be reformed. You will be brought to the Door of Night in the extreme West. There you be put into the Void." Manwë looked grim. He added gently, "It will be quick. You won't suffer."

_What they did to Melkor, they are about to do to me, _he thought.

"Now that I have pronounced your sentence, is there anything you would like to say?" This was an occasion for the condemned to apologize for his crimes, or to beg for the mercy he did not deserve.

Sauron's first impulse was to bargain. "Please don't do this! I'll do anything you want." He would agree to enslavement, imprisonment under harsh conditions, to a repentance that was real. But Sauron knew there would be no pardon for him, and he wasn't fool enough to ask for it.

"I want to say goodbye to Aulë." Sauron said softly.

"I'll ask him." Manwë replied gently. "But he might not want to see you."

Aulë stepped forward and stopped several paces in front of him. Sauron's first Master held his face carefully neutral. Aulë looked just like he always had, long wild hair, bushy beard, tall with massively wide shoulders and muscular from working in the Forge. He looked without expression at his former servant, the one who had been his favorite, the one he had disowned.

Sauron spoke the words rehearsed for this occasion, should it come. "Aulë, I want to thank you for raising me. For teaching me to work with my hands. To make beautiful and useful things from the humblest materials. For everything you … " Nervous, Sauron realized he'd forgotten his lines.

Then, without knowing he was going to do it, Sauron flung his arms around Aulë's neck. "Oh, Aulë! I missed you so much! So many times after I left you, I wanted to come home!"

Aulë stiffened. He stood impassively with his hands at his sides, his face a mask, unreadable. Finally Sauron let go and stepped back, his feeling badly hurt.

"What do you want from me?" Aulë said. "To use my influence and get you a lesser sentence? To take you back into my service?" His eyes were cold.

"I'm frightened. When it happens, will you pray for me?" Sauron said softly.

Aulë swept Sauron up in a bear hug, squeezing him hard. Sauron thought his bones would break, and wished it would go on forever. But too soon, a guard put his hand on Aulë's arm. "I'm sorry. It's time."

Aulë released Sauron from the embrace and, with his hands on his shoulders, regarded him from arms' length. "If I don't see you again, take care of yourself." he said gruffly, and cuffed Sauron lightly on the shoulder. Sauron nodded, but couldn't speak.

There were people, Eönwë among them, who wanted to say goodbye, but he didn't want to see them. He'd already begun to withdraw to a place inside his head where they couldn't follow. He was shutting down. He didn't answer when people spoke to him. After a time, he didn't understand what was being said to him.

**The Void**

It was a half day's journey from Valimar to the Door of Night on the Western-most edge of Valinor. They walked behind Manwë in silence. Sauron walked with his head bowed, his hands bound behind his back. The chain connecting his ankles was unusually short, forcing him to take small steps. If he'd tried to run, he'd have fallen flat on his face. Each of his guards kept a restraining hand on his elbow, but it wasn't necessary. He had given up.

He heard that a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, when all hope is gone, goes limp and feel no pain. When they stop struggling, a feeling of calm comes over them. That's what he was feeling now.

They reached the Door of Night just before sunset. Now, they had only to wait for the Door to open. When it did, they would have to act quickly. They only had a few minutes before the setting Sun descended through the Door and forced them back.

They waited. Sauron regretted not seeing Eönwë. He spoke to Manwë. "Eönwë wanted to say goodbye to me, but I wouldn't see him. Please tell him goodbye for me, and will you tell him I'm sorry I turned him away?" Manwë said, "I will. I think he understands."

It was almost time.

Manwë blindfolded Sauron's eyes. "There's no reason he needs to see this" he explained to the guards. _That was so like Manwë. He was always kind, even to a vanquished enemy. Even to one who deserved this._

Sauron prayed softly. "Ilúvatar who made me, I descended into Ea to help build the world you created with your thought. Now I return to you in utter disgrace. The fault is my own. Never have I deserved your love less, and I never needed it more." Manwë was close enough to hear, but stepped back to allow him his privacy.

Sauron heard the Door open, a sound like iron screaming. He guessed the door was standing fully open now, because he could feel cold on his face. Unimaginably cold. He knew he was standing on the brink of The Void. He was grateful he couldn't see the empty sucking blackness beyond the Door. He was badly afraid.

It was time.

He knew what was supposed to happen next, what he was supposed to do, but he couldn't move. It was only one step, but he simply couldn't move.

"Do you need help?" Manwë asked. Sauron nodded mutely. "Take a minute. Just let me know when you're ready." Manwë stepped behind him and held his arms. Manwë's grip restrained him, but it also gave comfort. Sauron wasn't going to be ready, ever, and they both knew it. Another minute went by, but he still couldn't make himself give the signal. It didn't matter. Without warning, he was shoved from behind. Hard.

Hard enough to make him lose his balance and fall forward. He expected to land on his knees, or his face. But instead, he kept on going, falling into the pit that had been prepared for him.

He screamed.

* * *

><p>[1] see Plague by Uvatha the Horseman.<p> 


	44. One of Námo's People

**One of Námo's People**

In the East Anteroom,OsgiliathBridge

Morning, April 9th, TA 3019

Just before the third day of the conference began, Pallando went into the East Antechamber to check on Sauron. After the blowup the previous afternoon, he wanted to gage Sauron's mood before deciding whether it was safe to proceed.

Sauron saw Pallando approaching him. He froze in mid-step, but recovered quickly and assumed a mask of normal emotions.

Several Nazgûl dropped their hands to the places their swords would normally be. One of them hissed. Pallando flinched, surprised by how menacing they were.

Pallando guessed the Nazgûl were attuned to their Master's emotions, by virtue of the rings they wore. At any rate, he'd just observed that when their Master got upset, they got upset. That might be important for later, in case there was another incident.

Pallando steered Sauron to a quiet corner of the Antechamber. The Nazgûl would have followed them, but their Master waved them off. They backed away, and hovered just out of earshot.

"What's going on? All the color drained out of your face when you sawme." said Pallando.

"Seeing you reminded me of a dream I had last night."

It must have been bad.

"You're one of Námo's people." said Sauron.

"You knew that."

"Tell me something. Have you ever seen the inside of Melkor's old cell?" Sauron asked him.

"I was one of his jailors." Sauron went rigid. Oops, faux pas. "I brought him food and blankets."

Sauron drew a shaky breath. "Can you tell me .. Was it hard on him? Did he suffer very much?"

"Imprisonment is meant to be hard."

Pallando started to say something more, but stopped himself. Not yet. I'm not ready.

Pallando had a secret. He'd never told anybody, not a living soul, but ever since the time of the Music, he'd been fascinated with Melkor.

When Melkor was imprisoned, Pallando found excuses to stay in his cell longer than his duties required. They talked, and he learned things from him. And when Pallando arrived in Arda as an Istari, he went into the East, out of reach of the Valar, and settled deep within enemy-occupied lands.

Pallando studied Sauron. Pallando wanted to confide in him, to talk freely with one who was openly devoted to Melkor. But not yet. Once he spoke, there would be no going back.

"Let's not talk about it." said Pallando. "Anyway, it's time to get started."

Notes:

[1] "I suspect they were founders or beginners of secret cults and 'magic' traditions that outlasted the fall of Sauron.", Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien


	45. Incantation Means Song

**Incantation Means Song**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Mid-Morning, April 9th, TA 3019

Pallando stood on the line through the middle of the room, watching people at work. The delegates were getting ready for the next session when they would debate one of the more major terms of the treaty.

Pallando's head jerked up sharply. He listened.

" … _ sleeping, I find no rest _…"

Sauron was absorbed in some drawings of fortifications. Absorbed in his task, he'd apparently fallen back into old habits without realizing it.

Pallando jumped to his feet and crossed the room to confront him.

"You promised me you wouldn't sing in here. Do you want me to throw you out of the room?"

Sauron looked up, surprised.

"I'm sorry. I forgot."

"Yesterday, when you sang, you blew up an important historical building." said Pallando. "Do you blame me for being on edge?"

Pallando let him stay in the room, but made it clear he wouldn't tolerate a second incident.

Pallando sighed. He would hate to have the peace talks end suddenly because of an incident like yesterday's. On the other hand, he would also hate to throw one of the Principals out of the room just as the two sides started to make real progress, especially on the last day.


	46. Migraine

**Migraine**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Late Morning, April 9th, TA 3019

Aragon, referring to water rights in the marsh land in Ithilien, said "Offer me something more." Sauron considered for a moment. "All right. I can help you cheat death. I can easily give you an extra two hundred years. You won't be under my power and I can't break the spell once it's cast. Just tell me you want it, and it's done."

"Sauron! Stop it or I'm going to smack you." said Pallando.

x-x-x-x-x-x

"How do we know Mordor will honor the treaty? You're word isn't good. I'm considering asking for hostages as surety." said Aragorn.

At the other end of the table, Sauron leaned over to the Mouth of Sauron, and whispered something to him, then got up and left the room. The Mouth of Sauron took over Sauron's place in the Principal's chair, and Khamûl moved up to the table and took his place as Advisor.

Pallando tried to gage Sauron's mood by trying to read the mood of the Nazgûl, but as far as he could tell, they were untroubled.

"He promised to control his temper. Maybe leaving the room is how he does it." said Gandalf.

"I hope we don't have another incident like yesterday. Or the day before." said Denethor.

"Those both happened in the afternoon. It's still morning, so I wouldn't worry." said Aragorn. Everyone laughed.

Pallando was concerned when, ten minutes later, Sauron still hadn't returned. He left the table and went into the East Anteroom.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was dark. Black fabric had been hung over every window. The second thing he noticed was how hushed the room was. It was full of people, but they were speaking in whispers and walking in stocking feet.

"Where is your Master?" Pallando whispered to an aide.

The aide pointed to the far side of the room. A black cloak thrown over a couple of chairs hid part of the wall from view. When he got closer, Pallando saw Sauron lying on the floor behind the makeshift screen, with his head on a chair cushion and a strip of black cloth over his eyes.

Pallando walked over to him.

"Why did you walk out?"

"I was looking at a document, and I realized I'd lost the ability to read. I could see the individual letters, but couldn't put them together. A minute later, I couldn't see the center of the page at all. I couldn't recognize people's faces either, unless I looked away. So I came in here to lie down for a while, hoping that if I lay perfectly still, the headache that's coming would be bearable."

Someone came over and put a cup beside him.

"What is it?"

"Black coffee with willow bark in it." [1]

Then one of the Nazgûl came rushing in through the outside door.

"You could have summoned me." said the Nazgûl, exasperated.

"What could you have done?" said Sauron. "I just have to wait for it to go away."

"Sit up and lean your head forward."

Sauron sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, with his chin resting on them. Pallando was surprised. He had never thought of the Nazgûl as being bossy. He was even more surprised to see Sauron obey him.

The Nazgûl knelt behind his Master and pressed both thumbs into the base of his skull. [2]

"I don't see the point of .. Oww!"

"Well, I have to press hard, or it won't work." said the Nazgûl.

"Wonderful. Now you've made it even .. no wait. It's gone."

Sauron shook his head to make sure.

"It's really gone. I'm fine."

He got up, and Pallando followed him back into the Great Hall. Sauron took over as Principal, and Pallando resumed his place at the mid-point of the room.

The discussion had moved on. The delegates were discussing the need for border crossing guard stations on the main road that ran from Minas Tirith to Minas Morgul. Pallando took his place beside Elrond.

"What was going on with him?" asked Elrond with concern.

"Nothing to worry about." said Pallando. "He's fine."

Notes:

[1]Willowbark contains salicylic acid, which is chemically similar to aspirin.

[2] A board certified neurologist once demonstrated (on me) how to cure a migraine by pressing on the occipital nerves. The result is immediate.


	47. Conceding Ithilien

**Conceding Ithilien**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

April 7-9th TA 3019

The most difficult task they'd faced had been choosing a border between Gondor and Mordor, and most of the first two days were spent discussing exactly where it should be.

The Ithilien is divided neatly in half by theHarad Road, a major highway which runs north-south from the Morannon to Haradwaith. TheHarad Roadwas the obvious choice for a border because it was a prominent physical feature and it was located in about the right place. Both sides provisionally agreed to it on the first morning of the conference.

Almost as soon as the border was agreed to, they began to discuss deviations away from the road, both east and west. There were many heated discussions revolving around who got a fertile tract of river bottom, a stand of woods, or rocky outcropping that could be mined for copper or salt. Each of these discussions had been hard fought and had used up a lot of emotional energy.

Then they discussed how the border should be marked. If they didn't use a physical feature like the Harad road, they would have to rely on signs, fences, or stone markers. Otherwise it would be hard for the local people to know where the border was.

There was debate about how the border would be enforced, because incursions into the other's territory would be destabilizing and might lead to war. They considered local ordinances enforced by fines, roving border patrols, and a border crossing station on the road between Osgiliath and Minas Morgul.

Both sides reluctantly concluded that a border through invisible and permeable land, even one well marked with a feature like a major road, would never be secure.

They agreed a secure border required a physical barrier not easily crossed, like a mountain range or a river. And if they wanted a physical barrier, they couldn't use a road, they had to choose between the Ephel Dúath to the east of Ithilien or the River Anduin to the west. It was a hard choice, because a fair division of land put the border between these two physical barriers. Choosing the Ephel Dúath would deprive Mordor of land it currently held, while choosing the River Anduin would require Gondor to give up the Ithilien, Gondor's lands east of the Anduin.

Eventually the decision was made that the River Anduin would be the border between Gondor and Mordor.

Gondor made a very big concession in agreeing to this, because even though the Ithilien was deserted, it had been theirs for centuries and was an important part of their history. It also required them to give up the eastern half of the City ofOsgiliath, which they minded greatly, even though it lay in ruins and was occupied by Mordor at the moment. Osgiliath had been the capital of Gondor in Isildur and Anárion's day, and the people of Gondor attached great importance to it.

They also feared that in given up eastern Osgiliath, Mordor might take down the few remaining bridges connecting then two halves of the ruined city. These bridges were architecturally beautiful and home to several historically important buildings, including the Basilica in which they now sat.

Mordor made a concession to leave the bridges standing. This reduced their security, as it made the river easier for an invading army to cross, but Gondor probably wouldn't have given them the eastern half of the city without it.

In deciding whether to use the Ephel Dúath or the River Anduin, what tipped the balance was the fact that Sauron had regained the Ring. Gondor knew it wasn't a bluff, they had all seen him wearing it. He was wearing it now. Having the Ring gave Sauron more bargaining power than he would have had otherwise. If he didn't have it, the Ephel Dúath would most likely have been the border chosen between the two realms. But because Sauron did have the Ring, he he was able to push for and get all lands east of the Anduin. Gondor was at a disadvantage and they knew it.

And while Frodo's release wasn't supposed to be a chip on the bargaining table, of course it was. And because Aragorn, Gandalf, and Faramir all cared for Frodo greatly, it made them more willing to concede abandoned land in the Ithilien to get him back.

Still, it wasn't a bad treaty. Gondor conceded far more land than they would have liked, but nobody had to pay tribute, nobody had to provide hostages, and nobody had to swear oaths they didn't want to. Most important, the threat of war was over for now.


	48. Signing the Treaty

Signing the Treaty

In the Great Hall, Osgiliath Bridge

Very Late Afternoon, April 9th, TA 3019

Late in the third day, it all came together. They arrived at an agreement that left each side unhappy, but both sides were unhappy to an equal degree. The participants later said that they reached consensus by exhaustion.

After the last detail was ironed out, the two sides withdrew for an hour while the conference organizers and their aides wrote out a clean copy of the treaty in its entirety.

If they hadn't been present and remembered what was said, they would not have been able to reconstruct the finished treaty from the untidy heap of sheets of paper and additional small scraps, written in many different hands and further obscured by frequent cross-outs and an abundance of marginal notes. Once they had a clean copy, they made an exact duplicate. Each side needed to have their own copy in order for it to be legally binding.

When the clean copies were ready, the two sides were summoned back into the Great Hall to sign them. This was a ceremonial occasion of great importance. The two delegations used the break as an opportunity to change into their most formal ceremonial clothes, and to scrub the ink from their hands.

The delegation from Gondor entered first, arrayed in embroidered silks in the style of Númenor. The delegation from Mordor entered next. Each of them was robed in black, their sable robe reaching the floor and hoods concealing their faces. Sauron's face was invisible behind a veil and black gloves covered his hands.

People from Gondor had gotten used to seeing him dressed as a Númenorian nobleman. They found his Mordor robes frightening, as they were intended to be. All nine Nazgûl stood against the wall behind him, arranged in formation, radiating menace. The Great Hall was a huge room, but they stretched from one side to the other.

"You brought all nine Nazgûl?" Aragorn teased. "Don't you think that's overkill?"

"Not really. There used to be ten of them, but I can't count that high anymore." he said, holding up his damaged hand.

Faramir looked at the Nazgûl and thought, "I've been at this peace conference so long I can actually tell them apart. On the first day, they all looked exactly alike. But today, I see that the Witch King stands overly close to Sauron and touches his arm when they talk. Khamûl moves like a deer. He'd make an excellent ranger. Dwar lopes like a big hunting dog. Ren stares out the window lost in thought, and Uvatha leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest like he's angry with the world."

There was some discussion, in jest, about whether they should sign in blood. Sauron indicated Aragorn, and said, "I will, but only if it's his blood." Aragorn didn't find that amusing.

Gondor went first. Aragon and each of his Advisors and several aides read the clean copy in its entirety. Satisfied, Aragorn signed his legal name and title, "Tar-Elessar the Second, King of Gondor" on at least a dozen different pages. Then he signed again, on the duplicate copy. When he was done, he shook his hand and rubbed it until the feeling came back to his hand. Each of his two Chief Advisors also signed the documents.

Then it was Mordor's turn. Sauron unveiled his face, because he couldn't see through the veil well enough to read. He pulled off his black gloves as well so he could write. Even from across the room, the envoys from Gondor could see the glint of gold on his hand. Perhaps that was the reason for the unusually large number of Nazgûl bodyguards today.

He read each page. When he finished, he handed it to the Witch King, who read it and handed it to the Lieutenant of Barad-dûr. When the Lieutenant of Barad-dûr was satisfied, he handed it to an aide, who read it and handed it to another aide. After five people had read both documents in their entirety and were satisfied with them, the pages were placed in front of Sauron to sign.

To the right of each instance Aragorn's signature, he wrote "Sauron Gorthaur, Servant of Melkor" in flowing Tengwar script, his handwriting identical to that of the Ring Inscription. After signing, he passed each page to the Witch King, who wrote below his Master's name, "Er-Mûrazor, The Witch King of Angmar", then passed the page to Urzahil of Umbar, the Mouth of Sauron and Lieutenant of Barad-dûr, who signed his name and title below Angmar's.

Sauron held the pen strangely to compensate for his missing index finger. He wrote slowly and his hand got tired easily. Faced with so many pages to sign, he asked someone to help him help tie the pen to the middle finger of his right hand, which was how he normally compensated for not having an index finger to rest the pen against. That done, he was able to hold the pen normally and write without difficulty.

When he finished signing all the pages, Sauron leaned over to the Witch King and whispered, "Why do we both have such long names?" while rubbing his hand to restore feeling. The other two signers were doing the same.

When both copies were signed on all lines, members of the White Council collected the documents. Pallando checked them and confirmed that both copies bore all the signatures they needed to make them legally binding.

Pallando would have liked to conclude the negotiations by asking the Principals to shake hands or at least to say a few respectful words to each other, but decided there was too great a chance they'd hurt each other. The personal animosity between them was just too much. Sauron hated Aragorn for spending the last three months plotting to kill him, and very nearly succeeding. Aragorn hated Sauron for who he was and what he stood for, but most especially for capturing Frodo and doing whatever it was he was doing to him.

So instead, Pallando gave one copy of the document to Gondor and the other to Mordor. He then announced to all assembled,

"We have a Treaty!"


	49. World's Worst Maia Jobs

**World's Worst Maia Jobs**

In the Great Hall,OsgiliathBridge

Early Evening, April 9th, TA 3019

The Gondor team stood and left the room. The representatives from the White Council were tired and punchy from the last couple of days, and they were ready to let their hair down. Sauron got up to leave, but Pallando motioned him to sit with them and share a pint. He sat back down with them. Pretty soon, they were all much more relaxed and more than a little tipsy.

Everyone there was a Maia. Away from mortal ears, they could talk among themselves more freely. Their most discussed subject was the Ainulindalë. Even Sauron, if asked "What was the most important event of you life?" would have answered, "You mean, after the Ainulindalë? Either joining the Rebellion or forging the Ring."

Radagast had a question for Sauron. "Why are you still missing a finger? You're on a different body now. For that matter, why do you still have scars from a slashed throat? That injury was two bodies ago." Sauron thought that injuries with emotional significance persisted while scars from daily living, like sword cuts or burns from the forge, didn't appear on the next body. None of the others had ever been killed so they didn't know what it was like, while Sauron had died at least twice.

"The first time I was killed was when Melkor'sTemplecollapsed in an earthquake.

Huge stone block shook loose from the ceiling and fell through the air right above my head. My last memory is of looking at the roof and seeing sky. The next thing I knew, I was in the abyss beneath the ocean.

"The second time, I accepted a challenge of single combat from the King of the Elves and immediately afterwards, a second challenge from the King of Gondor. I fought until I could no longer stand, and then I collapsed and bled to death. But on the bright side, I did win both duels."

"What's it like?" asked Saruman.

"Wounds hurt, but fainting from loss of blood doesn't. I have no memory of the Ring being cut from my hand. I assume I was already dead when it happened." said Sauron.

"Radagast, I forgot to ask about your birds and animals." Sauron said. "How are they doing?" Radagast didn't suppose Sauron had any more interest in them than Saruman did, since the interests of the servants of Aulë were machines and things deep in the earth, but he didn't refuse the invitation to talk about his birds. He had a lot to say, now that it was spring and they were nesting. He had a few particular favorites he'd given names to, and he spoke of them with zeal.

Saruman ran out of patience, and interrupted him with a question for Sauron. "Hey Big Shot, I heard that Ilúvatar speaks to you directly."

"Whatever." said Sauron.

"I'm so jealous. I would have thought Ilúvatar only communicates with Valar. It's very unusual he would speak to a Maia directly. What does he say to you?" pressed Saruman. Sauron slid down lower in his chair, embarrassed. "Could we just drop the subject, please?" However, he now had the full attention of all the others, who were looking at him and waiting for him to say more.

"Don't be jealous. He usually starts with, 'What were you THINKING!' and ends with, "If I EVER catch you …' and then there's a whole lot of stuff in between I don't even want to think about. After the Drowning of Númenor … I thought I was about to be the first Ainu ever to be unmade." He shook his head as if to clear it of the memory, "It was bad."

They started talking about one of their favorite phrases, "Maia means Servant, not Slave." Then someone challenged, "What was the worst job your Vala ever asked you to perform?"

"Oromë keeps a lot of horses. Horses need a lot of mucking out." said Pallando.

"Pigpens are worse." observed Sauron.

"Do you know how hard it is to clean up all the black soot in the Forge? And it's hot in there, too." offered Saruman.

"How about a task you can't complete? Like, oh, trying to track down the Blue Wizards?" Radagast added, looking meaningfully at Pallando. "Finding you was no joke. And I never did locate Alatar."

"Or how about having to put down an animal that can't be saved? Yavanna weeps for them, then she tells me to deal with it." said Radagast. He bit his lip, remembering.

Sauron said, "I have one. I just can't tell the story because I don't want to be disloyal." Assured by the others that nothing would leave the room, he was finally persuaded to tell. It helped that they were all pretty drunk by this time.

"It was right after Melkor was released from three the Halls of Mandos. He had just taken the Silmarils and fled with them to the Fortress of Angband. His hands were horribly burned, black on both palms, and he was in terrible pain. Until the bandages came off, he didn't have the use of his hands. He was unable to dress or feed himself. I was drafted to be his hands for a few days until he healed enough for the bandages to come off.

He'd been away for thousands of years, and I needed a little time to get used to him being back. I felt shy and awkward around him. He could have picked an orc trained as a medic to help him, but he didn't, he picked me. I think he regarded me as sort of an extension of himself, in terms of privacy. It turned out the job included helping him in the privy, which I did not want to do. We argued. I told him, "I'll help you undo your pants, but if you think for one minute I'm going to hold your ..."

"Too much information." said Pallando.

"Anyway" said Sauron, "If you know anything about Melkor, you know that, in the end, you're going to end up doing things his way. It would have saved me a whole lot of arguing if I'd just given in, in the first place."

"When did you turn evil?" Saruman asked Sauron.

"Excuse me?" Sauron glared at Saruman for a long minute.

"He doesn't think he is." Radagast whispered to Saruman.

"Have you gotten over Melkor yet?" Pallando asked Sauron.

Sauron was very drunk by this time. He looked down into his tankard, but instead of answering, he sang quietly to himself. While his speaking voice was nasal and rather harsh, his singing voice was pure and clear.

"_… My heart is low, my heart is so low…_" he sang quietly.

_"…you're still in my hopes, you're still on my mind…_"

Pallando said, "It's been two Ages. Over seventy five hundred years. I should think you'd have moved on by now and put it behind you.

"_… I mourn for my dreams, I mourn for my wasted love …_"

Sauron still hadn't looked at Pallando directly.

"…_ and while I know that I'll survive alone, my heart is low_." [1]

Addressing the others, Pallando said, "Okay, I think it's safe to say that no, he hasn't gotten over Melkor yet."

Notes:

[1] "Only a Woman's Heart" by Eleanor McEvoy (Copyright 1992)


	50. Going Home

**Going Home**

On the road to Minas Morgul

Night, April 9th, TA 3019

The Mordor embassy packed up and left an hour or two after dark, to begin the long ride to Minas Morgul. It was beginning to rain, and threatened to rain hard all night. The Mordor folk didn't feel secure outside their own land. They headed for home as soon as their business in Osgiliath was finished.

x-x-x-x-x-x

On the road to Minas Tirith

Morning, April 10th, TA 3019

The Gondor embassy rode toward Minas Tirith first thing the following morning. The roads were muddy, but the sun had come out again. Some of the White Council members rode with them.

"I'm surprised Sauron could sit on a horse." said Pallando. "We had all been drinking. He didn't drink that much, but he can't hold his liquor and he was feeling it."

"But a very good thing came out of that meeting yesterday. When we first sat down together after the treaty negotiations were done, Sauron wrote out and signed official papers to have Frodo moved from Barad-dûr to Minas Morgul, and to authorize his release from Minus Morgul to a delegate from Gondor. He gave the letters to Uvatha, who left right away to deliver them. He even remembered to write a letter of safe passage to Minas Morgul and back for the Gondor delegate. I have it right here." He pulled out an official looking square of parchment sealed with the emblem of the Lidless Eye. One of us can come and collect Frodo within the week."

"I'd like be the one to go." said Faramir. "I released him into that black land. I should be the one to bring him home."


End file.
